The Ebon Blade
by Millenial
Summary: A Death Knight freed after the Battle at Light's hope is left behind to recuperate mentally to accept what he has become, before he can join his brothers at Northrend. A routine investigation leads to a horrific adventure that promises to push his limits
1. Chapter 1

Note: The world in which my story 'The Ebon Blade' is based on, belongs entirely to Blizzard entertainment. SOME critical portions have the dialogue taken directly from the game World of Warcraft. That doesn't happen until much later in the story anyway. Thanks in advance for spending your valuable time reading my story. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1

Azrael crouched behind the debris of a wrecked wagon train that littered the side of the street. He was a small way away from the ghost town of Darrowshire. The wreck bore all the signs of an attack by the scourge. Material wealth was left behind without any trace of flesh. The scourge had no use for gold. An entity with only one collective goal- to convert all life to itself. No doubt the unfortunate beings who chose to risk travel through the Eastern plaguelands were now mindless zombies carrying out the will of the Lich King. Azrael sighed as he realized the hopelessness of the situation. Ghouls and Zombies posed threat only due to their large number. He had seen veterans of war overwhelmed by the sheer multitude and tenacity of their opponents. Slaughtering the pawns of the scourge was a truly fruitless task. One ghoul was soon replaced by ten, and the scourge was endlessly growing in number. There were scourge and then there were scourge. The disgusting pile of flesh sewn together that was patrolling the street ahead of him was an example of the latter. Nowhere as fragile as a Ghoul, an Abomination was a being of pure force. The lopsided grin on its face was in stark contrast to the sharp barbed wire that was barely holding together the rancid flesh and organs it was composed of. Nor was there anything funny about the giant cleaver it held in one hand, and a giant chained meat hook in the other. Yet, thought Azrael with a feeling of self disgust, not too different from what he had been transformed to. A Death Knight. A fallen soldier of the alliance, a human from the kingdom of Stormwind, and proud former member of the Stormwind elite. He had served under the direct command of King Varian. Raised in death to become more powerful than he had ever been before, his power had come at the cost of his humanity. When he was first freed from the bonds of the Lich King by the paladin Tirion Fordring, he had nearly wept at what he had become- Better to have died on the battlefield than become a monstrosity, the very kind he had despised and fought against. But in the shadow of despair that had engulfed him and many of the freed Death Knights, had come Darion Mograine. The leader of the Knights of the Ebon Blade. He had united them under a single banner and with Fordring's help had them reconstituted as members of the Alliance and the Horde. He had given purpose to their lives. Within themselves, Azrael and many other Death Knights had seen that Humanity was not defined by flesh, but by actions- by their service to their King and to the Light. Craning his neck, he caught sight of Acherus, the floating necropolis that served as headquarters of the Death Knights of the Ebon Blade and his resolve strengthened, his mind quickly returned to the tasks at hand.

The bulk of the forces, Both the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Blade, were now in Northrend battling the forces of the Lich King and preparing for a massive assault on Icecrown Citadel. While Azrael had no greater desire than to join his brothers in Northrend, him and a few other regiments of death knights had been left at Acherus to help 'clean up' the mess left by the scourge. The focal point of the conflict was in Northrend and the Lich King had all but abandoned his hold on the Eastern Kingdoms. Over the past months scourge activity was on a steady decline until now. Any action in the eastern plaguelands was limited to skirmishes between the Alliance and the Horde vying for control over a parched and dying land. But more recently, Azrael had received reports of Abomination sightings, and tougher-than-the-usual undead soldiers- which meant they were former elites of the alliance and the horde- Nowhere near as strong as Paladins or Death Knights, but Azrael knew for sure that they wouldn't have fallen to any remains of the original scourge. The Light's Hope outpost that stood directly beneath Acherus received fortnightly supplies from the town of Southshore. Relatively safe as the Plaguelands were compared to the time they were in the grip of the Lich King, supply caravans were heavily guarded. A stray attack by a plague carrying animal, some bad luck, and they would have to contend with a full scourge army in a very short time. No one took chances when it came to the scourge. Initially dismissed as an attack by the Horde, Captain Guirrin had taken a small contingent- no more than ten soldiers- to investigate the matter. They hadn't returned for two days. While there was fierce enmity between the two factions, supply chains were often left untouched, as a mark of mutual respect. Even more so, under service to the Argent Dawn, the Eastern Plaguelands was a sanctuary, where hostilities were forgotten- for most part- in the view of a common enemy. Azrael had a hunch that this had something to do with the increased scourge activity in the southern region of the plaguelands, and he had been right. The Abomination he spied on now was not the weak fare that they had been left with. It had runes branded onto its skin and reeked of foul magic that would, no doubt, enhance its abilities. The magic meant only one thing- Cultists. Azrael had only pity for the undead scourge- farmers, brave soldiers, even children, who had fallen prey to the plague and were now mindlessly serving the Lich King. Cultists however were another matter. Living beings that had forsaken the light to serve the scourge. Conscious beings who knew the difference between right and wrong. Azrael felt the remnants of his once human soul flare up in anger. They would pay for this.

Protocol dictated that Azrael send for reinforcements and a scouting party be arranged. A full scale sweep of this region was in order to prevent the Establishment of a scourge outpost. The Lich King had his eyes on Northrend momentarily and was fighting against the combined forces of Alliance and the Horde. But he would not hesitate to make use of an established Scourge Outpost to wreak havoc on the Eastern Kingdoms. He had done so before. No. Azrael could not take the chance, but he felt sure that he could handle this particular Abomination- as magically enhanced as it was- with ease.

A Death Knight had an array of magical attacks at his disposal, many of them common to all Death Knights, that made him a formidable opponent. Each Death Knight however, chose to specialize in one of the three major schools- Frost, Unholy or Blood. Azrael had been chosen to walk the path of a Death Knight of Blood. A near superhuman rate of healing, nothing short of a small sized legion could kill him. Azrael had survived the light manifested in the attacks of a thousand paladins when he was a servant of the Lich King. His choice of attacks were more...physical than his Frost and Unholy counterparts. Yet freedom from the Lich King had weakened him to no small degree. One of the reasons why Mograine had insisted that he stay behind. In the opinion of their leader, Azrael was too shattered and had lost his will to fight. There was something holding him back. While most of his brothers, like the Death Knight Thassarian had retained their strength- in fact he could go as far as to say Thassarian was stronger than he had ever been under the Lich King. Yet, Azrael and a few others had found it hard to come face to face with what they had become. Without the passion that fueled the likes of Thassarian and the others who were now in Northrend, Mograine suspected that they would once again fall under the grip of the Lich King. He had not explicitly said so, but Azrael knew it. And that was something he had never wanted. Disappointed though he was at not having the chance to go to Northrend, Azrael understood. Now, he had an opportunity to test his conviction. He knew that he would prevail and become stronger for it.

Even though he was undead and had no true sense of smell, Azrael could feel a familiar tingle in his nostrils as the overwhelming stench of putrefaction grew stronger. Azrael gripped his Rune forged blade tightly, the same weapon he used as a Stormwind Elite, a remarkable sword that was enhanced thousand fold and could now channel his power to devastate his enemies. The abomination had come as close as it would before it would begin moving away to complete its assigned patrol. Azrael leapt into action.

He felt his arm tremble as he gathered the latent power dormant within him and unleashed a blast of ice at his foe. Caught off guard the abomination took the full brunt of the blast and staggered backward. Besides causing some minor damage, the spell was designed to slow down an opponent for a short duration. Azrael lost no time in inflicting a wide gash on its stomach, with force that would have left an ordinary creature of flesh and blood in two halves. Bleeding and dripping its contents, though seemingly unhurt, the Abomination was quick to react and swung its giant cleaver in a frontal arc intending to behead him. Azrael ducked and scored another strike. This time at its legs. No sooner had he done so than the cleaver was brought back for a second try at his head. Azrael brought his blade up just in time to block the attack. He felt the jar of metal as the weapons struck. Having fought such enemies earlier, Azrael had anticipated the incredible force of the blow and prepared to move slightly so as to not try and oppose the whole impact. This abomination was far stronger than any he had faced before. He was swept off his knees and flew nearly a dozen feet away. He took a fraction of a second to regain his composure and out of sheer instinct rolled over to his side. The very spot he had been lying on the ground earlier now had a grim meat hook embedded in it. Azrael fell back into his fighting stance, and already the abomination had closed the distance between them. He narrowly avoided a few more strikes from the cleaver. This wouldn't do. The Abomination was incredibly fast- much faster than him. He leapt back putting some distance between them and launched an other blast of ice against his foe. Even with the slowing effects of his spell, Azrael was only narrowly avoiding the cleaver and inflicting only minor damage on the abomination. Azrael could see that the magical runes were slowly healing the more grievous wounds that Azrael had made. The only way to kill it was a lot of damage. In a very short span of time.

Bracing himself, Azrael concentrated on focusing his power to heal. A fraction of a second was all it took and he was ready. He leapt into the air holding his sword high above his head, as if to land an overhead strike at the abomination. The abomination took the bait and swung the cleaver at his exposed side, slicing through the armor and embedding itself in his side. The abomination let out a gurgle that sounded as close to a triumphant laugh as it could ever manage. Azrael moved along with the cleaver like a rag doll swung by an angry child. A wound that would have instantly killed anyone else- even another Death Knight. But not one schooled in the ways of Blood. Grimacing and tearing his mind away from the pain he felt, Azrael knew that he would live through this. The cleaver trapped in its enemy's side, the abomination had temporarily let down its guard. Azrael quickly regained the grip on his Rune blade and hacked away furiously at the Abomination, tearing through flesh and the barbed wire that held it together. It let out an unearthly scream as it tried to comprehend what was happening. Its efforts to pull the cleaver out failed, causing much pain to Azrael, but he continued hacking away. This was the best chance he would get, for he knew he could not absorb another blow like that one again without putting his life at serious risk. Increasingly growing frustrated with its inability to use the cleaver, and having suffered numerous cut and gashes from Azrael's sword, the abomination reared back and struck him with its foot, wrenching the cleaver free from his body. Azrael flew and fell a short distance away from the abomination. He got to his feet, the sword in his right hand and his left wrapped around his torso. The abomination was thrashing wildly and trying to pull itself back together, allowing the vile magic inside it to work on healing itself. Azrael could feel himself losing strength to the wound on his side. He had taken far worse and more mortal wounds than this one. He could live through this. He pushed away the pain and began to plumb deep within himself to call upon the powers of Blood to heal his wound.

As the healing began to take hold, his mind was flooded with visions of his days in service to the Lich King. Six Death Knights. Mograine was absent as were Thassarian and Koltira. Present were the four horsemen led by Baron Rivendare, Orbaz Bloodbane 'the hand of suffering' and himself. They stood over the ruins of Havenshire. Havenshire...Within moments Azrael lost complete control and fell to his knees. He let his sword fall away from his hand. For the first time since this fight had begun, Azrael felt pain like he had never felt before. His mind was filled with screams of the innocent. Azrael opened his eyes just in time to see a hook head towards his face. It connected with his face, breaking the bones in various places. Azrael flew through the air and this time crashed into the wreckage of the wagon he was hiding behind moments ago. Through blurred vision, he could make out that the abomination's leg was severed and it was dragging itself to him with one hand serving as its leg, and the other brandishing the cleaver menacingly. Azrael would not lift his hands this time. He doubted he could even if he had wanted to. The abomination was nearly upon him when Azrael saw something bowl into it. The 'something', Azrael could make out through his blurred vision was a Ghoul. It didn't make sense to him. A Ghoul attacking an abomination? unless...

His suspicions proved to be right. Seconds after the Ghoul had been ripped apart by the angry Abomination, as expected Azrael saw a blast of ice slam into the abomination followed by what appeared to be a bolt of shadow that resembled a skull- the Death Coil of an Unholy Death Knight. Where Knights of Blood focused their powers on healing themselves, the Unholy Death Knights were nowhere as durable as those from the school of blood, but were utterly devastating in battle. Armed with spells of shadow, Unholy death knights were often underestimated as they appeared to do very little with their weapons. But the bulk of their damage stemmed from the diseases they inflicted upon their enemies, slowly eating them away before they could understand what was happening. The same was the case with the Abomination, the runes crafted into its skin were fading, their attempts to heal the abomination becoming futile under this new foe's magic. Azrael did not need to turn around to see his savior, for merely seconds later a figure clad in the dark armor of a Death Knight, wearing a tabard of the Ebon Blade, rushed headlong into the abomination. From the way he crouched, Azrael knew for sure this was no human, not any member of a race of the alliance. The stooping form, the crooked legs and the very long arms. A troll. This one had fiery red hair cropped to the center like many of its race. Maintaining his distance, the Unholy knight slowly destroyed the abomination with a combination of his sword and unholy magic. The diseased abomination tried to do its best to hack away at its foe, but to no avail. The ghoul too had now risen again to join its master and began harassing the abomination. A short minute later the Abomination lay one the street, a pile of flesh and organs. The unholy knight was leaning over the remains as if examining them. Seeing the enemy vanquished, Azrael began to wonder if it was a good thing at all that he had lived through this. The last thing he remembered was the troll walking towards him as he lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Azrael woke up to a clacking sound. His neck felt as if his head had been twisted out of it and stuck back in. He put his hands on his side and felt that there was severe scabbing. Which was good. It meant he was healing. Albeit not as quickly as before. It had surely been an hour at least since he had lost consciousness.

'You still heal pretty well' said a cheerful voice

Azrael sat up and looked around. The troll was leaning over his weapon and cleaning it. Azrael tried to smile as well, except his jaw had not fully healed.

'And you're still as fast as ever. Liha. My old friend.' he said

'Azrael. Keeping busy I see'

Azrael ignored the jab. Liha had been among his closest companions while they served the will of the Lich King. Which is to say they were on a lot of missions together. Service under the Lich King left little room for the kind of camaraderie found in other...armies. They shared a moment of silence each not knowing what to say. All their talk during their former service was regarding strategies. They still retained a bit of their earlier living forms while under the Lich King. In fact it was that little amount of free will they had over their actions that made them so much more formidable than the rest of the scourge. Yet in all that time spent together, killing enemies and even saving each others lives...they had never known each other as soldiers often do. Never asked each other where they came from or what they had been before they were raised into undeath. And now they were trying to fit back into their former lives. The last glimpse Azrael had of Liha was when Azrael had been sent to Stormwind city, to meet king Varian shortly after Tirion had freed them from the grasp of the Lich King. He along with other Death Knights who were members of the alliance had borne a message to King Varian, the figurative leader of the Alliance, asking to be a part of it once again. They were greeted with complete malice by the citizens of Stormwind. Under very heavy guard and the threat of death with one wrong move, they were escorted to Varian's throne room. It was only on the strength of King Varian's word and the backing of Tirion Fordring, that they were inducted back into the Alliance. Liha no doubt had gone to Orgrimmar with a similar message addressed to Thrall, War chief of the horde. And Azrael knew surely that Liha received a similar reception there. Shortly after that Liha had been among the Death Knights to have left to Northrend.

'So' said Azrael looking to break the silence. 'What brings you to the Eastern Plaguelands? The last I heard, you were with Koltira and Thassarian in Northrend'

'Naxxramas has fallen. Kel'thuzad is dead' said Liha. Azrael had already heard this news. Although it still didn't explain why Liha was in the Eastern Plaguelands away from his post in Northrend. Catching a searching look on Azrael's face, Liha continued:

'We suffered many losses. A few of us have been sent to bring reinforcements back to Northrend'.

Which again made no sense to Azrael. Liha was now affiliated with the Horde. The Horde were mainly concentrated in continent of Kalimdor, except the Undead under Lady Sylvanas who scorned other members of the Horde nearly as much as they did the Alliance. Liha seemed to have noticed this as well.

'And...um...I have a mission as well...to be carried out under the orders of High lord Darion Mograine'. No doubt Liha was not at liberty to speak about it. Azrael had no wish to discomfort him further and changed the topic.

'I've heard of the fall of Naxxramas. A bitter and bloody battle. I also heard that our old "friend" Rivendare met his end'

Not all the death knights were freed from the Lich King's grasp. The four horsemen rose to command a vast undead force in the necropolis of Naxxramas, under the command of Kel'thuzad.

'Yes' said Liha. 'The four horsemen fought together. As they always did under his service. And it was fitting that they died together'

'What about Orbaz' asked Azrael after some hesitation. Orbaz was a touchy topic among the death knights. The four horsemen were already too deep into the service of the Lich King to have been redeemed. Orbaz was another matter altogether. All the freed Death Knights hoped for their own sake that Orbaz had chosen to fight for the Lich King, like the cultists. For if he was still being held forcibly under the will of the Lich King and Tirion hadn't been able to free him, then all of them still were at risk of losing themselves again.

'Nothing. No trace at all. Thassarian was caught up in some...personal affairs, after we set foot in Northrend. Almost immediately. After that's been settled, he has spent much time looking for Orbaz. The Horde...and the Alliance now hold firmly the Borean Tundra and Wintergarde. He was nowhere to be found in either of these places. We believe him to be in Icecrown'

Azrael could say nothing to this. Even if they had established a base on Northrend, they were still a very long way off from Icecrown. Liha was sitting on his haunches, the characteristic way of the trolls. He was tinkering with his sword. He removed a small automaton from his personal effects and set it to work on the sword.

'You have some unusual interests for a Troll' laughed Azrael. Most Trolls were jungle dwellers and preferred crafts like Leatherworking. Liha however was an excellent blacksmith and...an amateur engineer of sorts. Azrael found engineers to be very eccentric and their work very unreliable.

'You should know by now that I AM an unusual Troll' replied Liha.

'Mark my words. You'll blow up some day. Just like those damned gnomes'

'You mean a goblin. I'm a goblin engineer'

Azrael gave him a bewildered look.

'Not that you'd know the difference' clarified Liha.

'My friend. That's one thing I'll be glad not to know'

Many of them had taken to their crafts in order to remember much about themselves after being freed. Some of the small steps that they were taking in their eventual goal of regaining their former identities. Not that it did Azrael any different. He was still plagued by the memory of what he had become and no amount of crafting seemed to change that.

'So how does a Troll even know how to smith weapons?' asked Azrael.

'You know I am Gurubashi?' asked Liha.

This was indeed a surprise for Azrael. He knew there were very few civilized Troll tribes, but the Gurubashi were not among them. Hailing from the southernmost tip of the Eastern kingdoms, the savage Gurubashi Trolls ruled a massive empire from their seat in Zul'Gurub. Unlike their Darkspear cousins, who were members of the Horde, most Troll tribes were staunchly against all outsiders and hated the Alliance and the Horde with equal animosity. Being Gurubashi meant that Liha was certain to be an outcast even in the Horde. As if reading his mind, Liha replied.

'Only other Trolls can tell the difference. Orcs know as little about us as you do. I am not as large for a Gurubashi Troll. Which is why I was not immediately put to death when I was taken prisoner'. Liha continued to tinker with various other gadgets in his bag.

'I was given over to a Goblin. You would know how greedy they are. Being too young to be put into an arena, I was to earn my keep working for him as blacksmith while I spent my spare time learning how to fight. That was where I picked up Engineering as well. Its another story about how I got free of him. And after I did, I was too long away from home to be accepted by my tribe. My Darkspear cousins accepted me. In a way. The ties of blood run very deep, and I often found more acceptance among the Orcs of Orgrimmar than my own brethren. But I still spent most of my time traveling'

This explained a lot to Azrael. It explained the way Liha spoke, which was very uncommon for a Troll. He was amazed at how he had been with Liha for so long and had known so little about him.

'I spent a lot of time in and around Stranglethorn Vale. Perhaps the call of home was too strong'.

Zul'Gurub was located in Stranglethorn Vale in the Eastern Kingdoms. Even though the Eastern Kingdoms were predominantly Alliance, the Vale itself owing to the Goblin operated port of Booty Bay was neutral. Azrael recalled the sense of wonder that had filled him the first time he went to the pirate city when he was still a fledgling guard. Sergeant Mek had taken him and a few other new guards to visit the city on an errand he had to run. The memories came flooding back to him. The first time he had met an orc in the Salty sailor tavern. Although hatred of the Horde was ingrained in him right from the start as a human of the Alliance, he found himself fascinated by the Ocs and Trolls he met in the city. What was remarkable was their fluency in the Common tongue. No wonder Liha spoke it so well. A smile spread across his face as he realised he was only just getting to know his old comrade.

'And what did you do there?' asked Azrael with a laugh. 'Don't tell me. Plundering the south seas for fleet master Seahorn. First mate Liha' he continued mockingly, alluding to the well known Tauren. Liha snorted.

'I was with the Blackwater Raiders for sometime. They weren't pirates by the way. We were called privateers' corrected Liha. Azrael rolled his eyes.

'But not much plundering. Just some...odd jobs for them. Then the time came to leave the Vale due to some...unforeseen circumstances'

It was beyond Azrael to even try and imagine what sort of trouble one could get into dealing with the Blackwater Raiders or any of the 'privateers' operating out of Booty Bay. Azrael lifted his arm to look at the scabbing. It had hardened, but he knew the flesh was still tender and the healing was far from complete.

'So. The part about me healing pretty well. You meant it?' asked Azrael.

'No' said Liha flatly. Azrael sighed and drooped his head.

'This was a tougher sort than the ordinary abominations. But it shouldn't have taken you so long. In fact I was impressed when I saw you take that hit voluntarily to get inside its defenses'

Azrael raised his eyebrow. 'You were watching me?'

'I had every intention of helping you, but I wished to see if this time spent alone had done you any good...' Said Liha uncomfortably. 'You were doing well...'

Azrael ran his hand across the scab formation on his right side. It was healing faster now. Even though he had floundered and his powers deserted him when he needed them the most, he was glad his training was ingrained into him well enough to kick in and not let him die.

'What happened?' asked Liha, a hint of concern in his voice.

'Do you remember Havenshire?' asked Azrael. Liha nodded and then shook his head as if knew where this was going.

'How many people do you think we killed there?' asked Azrael.

Liha shook his head.

'The scarlet crusade aside. Farmers? stable boys?...children?' he added.

'We were not responsible for those atrocities' said Liha. Azrael knew this to be partly true, but he also knew he couldn't face the fact that he did commit those crimes. The Lich King had to answer for those crimes. But it was Azrael who had to live with what he had done.

'I know. But every time I draw upon the powers of Blood, all I remember is what I had done under him. And this...thing...that I have now become'

Liha grimaced at this.

All of the freed Death Knights had to come to terms with the past events. Liha had probably faced demons of his own. Maybe every other Death Knight as well. Azrael could not understand why it was taking him so long. Azrael understood from Liha's silence that he would not try to convince Azrael otherwise or preach to him about whose fault it was. Both of them knew it had to be worked out on one's own.

'So' continued Azrael. 'Can I ask where this secret mission of yours will be taking you?'

'Stranglethorn Vale' said Liha. The southernmost tip of the eastern kingdoms. Liha would take a long time indeed to reach his destination. Also home to the former Gurubashi empire... Perhaps Liha's mission was personal as well. Azrael chose to trust Liha and not ask anything else about his mission.

'So you wished to stop at Acherus before making your way to the vale?' asked Azrael

'Yes' replied Liha. 'I arrived at the Undercity and proceeded to make my way towards Tarren Mill after preparations were done. I had some...messages to deliver in the Undercity. Then I heard some disturbing news about the supply wagons from Tarren Mill not reaching the outposts. At first they thought it was the Alliance. Two days ago, we lost a Kor'kron Blood guard. He couldn't have fallen to the remnants of the scourge here. The rabble that's now left in the plaguelands...'

Azrael thought back to the abomination and the caravan wreckage.

'The Abomination' Liha said. 'I looked at its remains closely and...'

'Yes. Cultist runes branded on its skin. I noticed' replied Azrael.

'Cultist activity here in the Eastern Plaguelands. We thought He abandoned them entirely and was focusing his efforts on Northrend' said Liha.

'It would seem that isn't true. Where are we now?' asked Azrael, standing up for the first time and looking around for himself. They were on a small hillock a short way off from Darrowshire. His vision was back to normal now. Running his hand across his face, he could feel the bones had healed. Looking to his right, he could see the wreckage of the caravan where he had confronted the abomination. He walked to edge of the hillock and could see a vast stretch of barren land, still not completely healed from the ravages of the scourge. To their left was the ghost town of Darrowshire. A small way off to the north beyond the wreckage of the street was Crown point tower, an outpost not in use by either the Horde or the Alliance. Liha seemed to have noticed where Azrael was looking.

'No. I've already checked it out. Its completely empty'

Nodding his head, Azrael too focused his thoughts.

'The remnants of the scarlet crusade still hold Tyr's hand, so we can forget about that side' he said referring to the city of fanatical humans a short distance to the east from them. Liha nodded again reading Azrael's mind. The scarlet crusade hated anything undead or affiliated to it with a passion that was frightening. There were only two possibilities for the scarlet crusade- you were either with them or against them. They had succeeded in completely alienating the rest of the races of Azeroth. But at this particular juncture their presence to the east cut the ground to be searched by nearly half.

'Then we would need to continue searching to the west' said Azrael. Liha began to pack away the numerous 'objects' that lay on the ground. Azrael's sword had been worked upon by the tiny repair bot and was now in perfect condition. He suppressed a smile knowing that as unearthly as these 'engineers' were, they certainly had some amusing toys.

Their first objective was to check the town of Darrowshire. Marduk Blackpool- one of their own had been responsible for the fall of Darrowshire and the slaughter of its inhabitants. Marduk was one of the oldest Death Knights of the scourge, much before Liha or Azrael had been converted. Even though Marduk had been slain by adventurers, his atrocities had been carved into Darrowshire. No one could step into the town without experiencing visions of the battle that took place or whispers from the ghosts that had not been put to rest even after they had been avenged. Azrael and Liha however had trained their minds to ignore such disturbances when needed. Splitting up, they went into every single house checking it thoroughly for any signs of recent disturbance, keeping an eye out for trapdoors and such. It took nearly an hour until they were convinced the town was deserted. They came to the conclusion that they would need to head further west towards the river Thondoril that separated the Plaguelands into west and east.

Scaling the last of the many hills that dotted the southwestern part of the land, Azrael found the first sign of what they were looking for. From the distance, it appeared to be three figures moving in circles around a house. Azrael narrowed his eyes as he tried to get a clearer view.

'Is that a house?' asked Liha.

'No' said Azrael. He knew that place. 'It's called the Undercroft. It's a crypt'

Liha remained silent. Azrael had been here earlier. When the first contingents of the Ebon Blade had left for Northrend, him along with other knights of the Ebon Blade and the Paladins of the Silver hand had thoroughly cleansed the Plaguelands. As time passed more Death Knights went to join the efforts at Northrend and seemingly the scourge activity in the plaguelands too, had lessened considerably. Right from the beginning their true focus had been Stratholme, the cursed city in the northern section of the plaguelands. Their goal was to cleanse it entirely and allow it to be rebuilt- an impossible task, as the scourge held on to it tenaciously. Raids on the city had been organized by the Death Knights and paladins, as well as adventurers seeking fortune, but all to no avail. Each time they thought the city had been rid of the scourge, the undead had popped back up. As such after the first few months, when their numbers had lessened considerably in the plaguelands, the Death Knights had stretched their patrols and left some of the lesser prone areas alone. A crypt was an ideal place for a scourge infestation with the ready supply of dead bodies, but Azrael himself had been on patrol in this area in the earlier months. There was nothing remarkable about it.

'Those...things' said Liha pointing to the figures walking in the courtyard of the Crypt.

Azrael had to strain his vision to get a clear sight. The sun had gone down, and it was getting dark quickly.

'I count four of them' said Azrael. 'What about them?'

'They move too quickly' replied Liha.

Azrael saw that it was true. From this distance they appeared to be wearing armor and carrying large two handed swords. Ghouls and Skeletons could move very quickly in battle, but while they were simply patrolling their movements were relatively very lethargic. The hands would stay still and drag the weapon across the ground. Nothing but the legs moved. This was different. They moved with an almost human grace carrying their weapons aloft and looking around after they stopped.

The two Death Knights advanced slowly taking cover behind ridges until they were as close to the Undercroft as possible. The visible mausoleum was only an entrance. The bulk of the crypt was underground like many others. Azrael now had a clearer sight of their foes. Of the four guards, three of them wore the armor of the Stormwind elite. The fourth had the trappings of a Paladin of the Silver Hand. Not good. Paladins were immensely hard to turn, even in death. All the four seemed to have the same runes branded on their bodies. They had no idea of the abilities of their foes and could take no chances. Liha silently motioned that he would be taking the two to the left. The two turned soldiers. Leaving the remaining soldier and the Paladin for Azrael. This wasn't an arbit decision. Even in battle, Death Knights of blood were preferred against unknown enemies simply because they had a greater chance of surviving the unexpected. As undead, the Paladin would not be able to call upon the powers of the light. But who knew what else he was capable of. The Death Knights were proof of how deadly a foe risen from death could be.

They took a few seconds to prepare themselves. At the same time both of them rusehd headlong into battle. Azrael's chosen foes turned in time to meet him. Azrael let loose a blast of ice from his hand catching the Soldier in his chest pushing him off his feet- momentarily. His rune empowered weapon glowed as it met the Paladins hammer. He could see the paladins face clearly. The lack of expression and the hollow eyes of undeath. Exchanging blows they circled around each other, till the second foe came to join the paladin. Azrael barely moved fast enough to intercept both the enemies strikes, taking a blow from the paladin's hammer on his shoulder. A surge of pain shot through him as he felt the bone crack. He reassured himself as he always did, knowing that his connection to the Blood power would keep him alive. He took a few other insignificant blows from the solider as he parried another strike from the paladins hammer. He managed to get into the Paladin's defenses to land a strike against his arm. This wasn't good. He didn't have the speed to cope up with the two of them. He quickly made a decision. While Knights of Blood were mainly focused on survival, they had access to two lethal abilities albeit for a very short time, that could devastate enemies. They could induce themselves into a state of Hysteria becoming extremely reckless and feeding on the power of their own blood. A lack on control often meant they were purely on the offensive and would be weakened later. The second was the Dancing Rune Weapon. A clone of the Death Knight's wielded weapon that imitated his moved. Not very effective in this particular situation but it would serve to keep the second enemy busy when he dealt with the Paladin. He needed to time this right, and needed to make the move count. He fell back into a purely defensive state parrying incoming blows and collecting all the power he could amass from within. The paladin and the soldier pressed on being encouraged by their foe's retreating. Azrael quickly drew his offhand onto the blade of the weapon slicing the skin of his palm. Drawing it to his mouth he sucked a small amount of blood and moved into striking range of his enemies. In a small flash he created the dancing rune weapon. The next instant he felt the texture of the blood in his mouth change. From bitter and salty it tasted like corroded metal. He felt his head explode and vision blur. He exploded into action moving at twice the speed he had earlier striking the Undead soldier on his knees and then thrusting the sword into his chest all the way to the hilt. Twisting it, he yanked it back out landing a violent kick against the knee of his opponent, his foot effortlessly breaking it off. He finished with a massive horizontal strike to the soldiers face. He did not wait to see the effect of his actions and immediately turned on the Paladin, who was taken aback by this onslaught. Throughout, Azrael could feel his limbs shudder as the power flooded his body unleashing strike after strike on the Paladin in a rage. He held onto it until he knew that if he continued he would surely die under the weight of his own power. His teeth began to grind against his will and his grip tightened on his rune blade. He could feel his hands going numb with each strike. At this point he couldn't see what he was hitting. Suddenly letting go of the power and regaining control he leapt back letting go of his weapon. His sight returned and he saw that the paladin was cowering holding his hammer across his face defensively. The second enemy was a pile of bones lying on the ground hovering near him was a floating weapon that resembled Azrael's own. The dancing rune weapon had mimicked each of his strikes and under the weight of both weapons, the Undead soldier had been destroyed. The paladin had noticed that Azrael had let go of his weapon. Azrael had only a moment to reach for the short sword he strapped to his belt and brought it up blocking the paladin's hammer. The weight of the blow was much heavier than before. Azrael knew the paladin too was weakened, but his own abilities had exhausted Azrael. He turned around to see that Liha had finished off one of his enemies and was now quickly hacking away at the other one. He would only need to hold on for another few seconds. He blocked another blow from the hammer, his hands jarring with the impact of it. He could see the wounds he inflicted on the paladin slowly disappearing as the runes etched on its skin glowed brightly. An insect like swarm quickly enveloped the Paladin. Liha had now come to join the battle and engaged the Last remaining foe. Azrael took a moment to breathe and retrieved his fallen weapon. He too joined Liha. The paladin however seemed to be made a lot tougher than the remaining three. Azrael did not know if this was because of the strength he had while he was still living or he had grown stronger in undeath. In either case he took a full minute of being vigorously hacked by both of them till the runes stopped glowing and he was completely motionless.

'These damned things are much harder to kill than I had realized' said Liha after they were done. Azrael had knelt down to take a closer look at the paladin. His hammer was standard issue as was the plate armor he wore.

'Recognize him?' asked Liha

'No. But he seems to have held the rank of Knight-Captain' said Azrael pointing to the insignia near his chest.

'See this cloak?' said Azrael continuing. 'It's from the older order that Arthas destroyed after he was Risen as Death Knight, before he became the Lich King. There are very few Paladins alive from the original order. The newer Paladins wear cloaks of the Argent Crusade after the order was merged with the Argent Dawn'

This was bad news. If the order of the Silver Hand mirrored either the Stormwind army or the Ebon Blade in hierarchy, a Knight-Captain alone would be powerful indeed. Too powerful to be brought down by an accidental surge in the scourge's numbers. And the cloak meant a member of the older order who had survived Arthas' purge. Azrael came to a conclusion that whatever made these things was surely within the Crypt. Whatever awaited them below, the two of them would not be able to handle this alone.

'I'm not for running away from a challenge, but this appears to be far more serious than we had realised. I say we go back to Acherus and get reinforcements'

Azrael did not get a reply. He turned around to see that Liha wasn't where he had been standing just a few seconds ago. He quickly got to his feet brandishing his blade. The last thing he saw a bolt of shadow hitting his skull, obscuring his vision and suffocating the breath from him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Azrael felt a sharp kick in his ribs. He opened his eyes and noticed that he was lying on the ground. He felt a tinge of nausea overcome him followed by sharp pain inside his skull.

'Stand' came a rasping voice. It was surely no louder than a whisper but Azrael felt it resonate inside his head compounding the pain he felt. Even though he felt extremely weak, Azrael felt compelled to get to his feet, his knees shaking throughout. He took in a moment to observe his surroundings. He was in a large room with what appeared to be massive sarcophagus ahead of him. A few feet in front of him stood a robed human, the cowl obscuring his face. A cultist. By his side were two more, dressed in the same way but less ornately. From the shape and the folds in robe he made out one of them was woman. All around them were several more of the same soldiers that Liha and himself had encountered a short while earlier. Flanking them were two Abominations. Each of the four walls held sconces with torches making the room moderately bright. He could see that Liha too was standing right next to him, hands bound and it appeared he too was equally if not more uncomfortable. He seemed to have his hands restrained in a cord that pulsated with energy glowing a faint green. It appeared to be riddled with numerous tiny runes. Azrael was utterly disconnected from his powers with the band restraining him. For now, as long they bound his hands, he was no more than an ordinary half undead human being.

'A Death Knight. How fascinating. From the tales of your great 'exploits', I must say I am disappointed at how little a fight you put up. Why that old Paladin we captured yesterday put up more of a fight than these sorry excuses' said the leader. The woman spoke next

'Indeed. One would begin to wonder why our Master held them in such high esteem'

'I'm beginning to think' continued the leader, 'that our Master did not find it worth his effort retaining them. It might be the only reason that fool Tirion runs around convinced that he 'freed' these worthless sacks of flesh'

The woman gave a short squeal of laughter.

'Yes. He said as much when he was writhing in pain on the ground at Lights Hope Chapel, under the might of Tirion's Ashbringer' said Liha. 'That was right before he got scared and made a run for it' he added.

A moment of silence.

The abomination standing behind Liha moved forward and brought down the massive chain in its hand onto Liha's back with a resounding crack. Liha gave a short grunt and dropped to the floor. The woman moved forward.

'Say one more disrespectful thing about the Lich King, Troll. And I will make you suffer a thousand deaths before I make you slaughter your own family. Oh yes Troll, you will tell me all the secrets buried deep within your filthy mind willingly once Durk'anh has had his way with you'

Liha gave a snort that sounded a little bit like laughter. Azrael hoped Liha wouldn't make this much harder. Bandying words here was a waste of time. Durk'anh. The name wasn't familiar at all to Azrael. The third robed figure spoke for the first time.

'Interesting. A Troll that speaks common'. He moved his hand to stroke a grizzled beard.

'I think that should be enough for now' said the leader. He turned to the woman. 'Take both of them to Durk'anh. He will decide which one to pick. Throw the other one in the dungeons'.

Azrael felt a chain wrapped around him by the abomination flanking him. The hook at the end of the chain dug into his skin as he was led on into a corridor. Liha too was being pulled by the second abomination. A little more roughly, no doubt prodded by the woman cultist, who would still be bristling after Liha's remarks. There were many empty chambers lining the corridors. The crypt was much larger than Azrael had remembered earlier, and he wasn't sure which level he was on. Nevertheless he was being dragged down to another level.

Descending the stairs, Azrael was greeted with a laboratory of sorts. There was a single large room filled with tables containing implements of torture and jars of liquids. At the farthest end of the room were tables with clamps; presumably for holding subjects. Presently, there was one 'subject' camped down to the farthest table and a grotesque figure hunched over the table working very busily indeed. 'It' hadn't even noticed their approach.

'Durk'anh' said the woman.

The creature was too absorbed in its work to respond. The woman appeared visibly afraid of saying anything more. A short while later the hunched figure turned around to display its bloated face. Durk'anh was undead, but like nothing Azrael had ever seen before. Wearing a large and bloodied smock and stooped low, holding a large scalpel in one hand and a large menacing knife in the other, Durk'anh was the very definition of 'menacing'.

'You have more subjects for me dear Lyresa?' came a sickening voice sounding something like a gurgle.

'Yes' replied Lyresa. 'These are Death Knights. The first one's we've captured'

'Marvelous! I had been hoping to get to work on one of these soon. I was never allowed to touch them when they served our Master. And they're annoyingly hard to get hold of in such prime condition'

Azrael had no doubt Durk'anh was excited. He bounded over quickly to them and slowly looked over Liha first.

'Hrmm...this appears to be very very rare indeed! A Gurubashi troll! I haven't laid an eye on one of these in ages. Your type are hardly found so far away from home. It must surely be a very fascinating story of how you became a Death Knight'

Liha shifted uncomfortably in his restraints. Azrael had no idea of how Durk'anh knew Liha was Gurubashi. Azrael himself found out only this morning.

'Your species are more durable than the rabble I get to work with around here, even for trolls. Oh yes, the Mossflayer trolls are interesting but in very poor health lately. Once they've been scourged they lose much of what makes them unique. This very Crypt houses the graves of many mummified trolls. We do get our hands on some live ones, but alas, I fear I have learnt everything there is to know about them'

Zul'mashar to the North was the home of the Mossflayer trolls. The tribe had been completely wiped out by the plague and had become a stronghold of undead trolls. Azrael knew of no trolls alive in this region today.

'And what have we here? Another boring human' he said head hopping over to where Azrael stood. He felt the cold undead hand brush his face and then run down to the side where he bore the scar from his battle against the abomination. Durk'anh ran his hand along the scar and then squeezed, sending a massive jolt of pain through his body. Azrael buckled under the pain and fell to his knees.

'And in very poor condition as well' he added. 'But a Death Knight still! Oh this is very exciting indeed!'

He moved back now shifting his looks between Azrael and Liha.

'Hmmm...which one do I pick?' he said rubbing his deformed chin.

'Might I suggest the Troll' said Lyresa. She seemed to have taken the remarks against the Lich King very seriously indeed thought Azrael.

'The Troll should be fun, but the human doesnt look like he's going to survive very long. Not with that wound on his side. Might as well work on him first'

Lyresa seemed to have been troubled by this notion and made to speak.

'Um...about that' she said moving a small distance away from Durk'anh.

'Yes' said Durk'anh. The voice was drawn out to be very threatening indeed. From what it appeared, Durk'anh was used to having his way, and didn't seem the type of person who would take kindly to being told something in his 'lab'.

'Ilim wished me to tell you that he wanted both the Death Knights converted'

Durk'anh stood still and didn't say anything. He folded his hands and kept staring at her. Lyresa for her part seemed to be scared of how Durk'anh would react. After a short while, Durk'anh threw up his hands and gave a sigh.

'Nobody cares about science anymore. That's the problem with you cultists. Grasping at power where it does not lie. The only true power is knowledge. But very well...Tell Ilim he will have his Death Knights.' he said.

'Take away the Troll. Their increased regeneration that makes some of my more delicate experiments more annoying' Durk'anh was referring to the fact that Trolls had a higher rate of regeneration as opposed to the other species of Azeroth. True, but in this particular situation, a fatal mistake. Durk'anh, while he seemed very knowledgeable about the various species of Azeroth had almost no idea of Death Knights; or at the very least, he did not know that Azrael was a knight of Blood. While a Troll's regenerative powers were remarkable indeed, they were very inferior to those at the disposal of a Blood Death Knight. Being schooled in Unholy himself, Liha would have a harder time under Durk'anh's blade than Azrael. Although if the table was equipped with the same runic restraints that bound his hands, Azrael realised, he would be completely at Durk'anh's mercy.

'Humans are far easier to convert' he stated in the manner of a fact. 'I have had much experience with them and even the most noble of them can be broken in time. Our old friend the Paladin was a perfect example. This one shouldn't take too long from the looks of it'

'Tiaeus is no more. He was destroyed by these two' said Lyresa pointing to Liha and him.

Tiaeus. Azrael had heard that name many times while he was in the Eastern Plaguelands. Often from the mouths of Paladins he patrolled with. As Azrael had concluded, Tiaeus was one of the older Paladins. A survivor of the old order of the Silver Hand. They said he was even a friend of Tirion Fordring. In fact from what Azrael had heard, because of his older age, and some war injuries, Tirion had requested that Tiaeus stay back and guide the younger Paladins. Azrael's blood began to boil. He had never met the man personally, but he could picture an old man sitting on a crate at one of the towers, entertaining the much younger Paladins and Soldiers with tales of the older days. A noble man indeed to have earned the friendship of Tirion Fording. And a hardened one to have survived for so long. All of it for naught. To fall into the hands of these wretched cultists, to be cut up by deranged monster and forced to rise in Undeath. And then to fall under Azrael's blade. For the first time in the last two months, Azrael had to struggle to hold back tears; tears of anger.

'What?' shouted Durk'anh. 'Do you realize that the old fool had taken a whole day to convert? All that effort and you lose him'

Lyresa had nothing to say.

'Ah Well. A testament to the strength of the two excellent specimens I have here. Lock the troll in with the others. And leave one of the abominations with them. These Death Knights are notoriously tricky. I have seen what they can do firsthand in Northrend'

Lyresa motioned for the Abominations to follow her. Liha was dragged along the staircase out of the laboratory. Azrael was left alone with Durk'anh. He looked around quickly to see if there were any makeshift weapons. Durk'anh seemed to have noticed Azrael looking around and let loose a little laugh.

'I know what you are thinking, pitiable human. Everybody who comes into my lab does the same thing at first'

Durk'anh moved close to Azrael and stood directly above him. Even with his back hunched he towered over Azrael.

'Normally I would have let you reach for one of the implements on the table while I pretended not to notice. And then when you made your move, I would have ripped you apart into pieces with my bare hands. But sadly, that little amusement has to be put off for now since I cannot afford to lose you'

Durk'anh landed a fist to the right of Azrael's face knocking him to the ground. He then lifted Azrael with one hand and hurled him clean across the room. Azrael slid across the floor and crashed into the foot of one of the metal tables.

'You see Death Knight. Under the restraints Ilim has specially designed, your powers are completely unusable. So you are no different from that pile of flesh that is currently strapped to my table. While I, retain in my undeath, all the strength that the Lich King has bestowed upon me. I tell you this so that you will not make a foolish mistake Death Knight. I will need to cause you much pain before the day is done, but I would hate for any of it to be needless'

Durk'anh covered the distance between them in a few strides and lifted Azrael off the ground. Azrael felt the powers of blood flowing through him for a short while as Durk'anh removed the restraints. Before he could think of using his powers, he felt them fade away again as he was strapped onto one of the unused tables.

'Hmm...very poor reflexes. Even for a human being. That old wreck of a Paladin managed to at least strike me once before I strapped him onto my table'

Azrael was completely clamped down now.

'The clamps on these tables have the same runes. And very remarkable runes they are. In fact Ilim's restraining runes are the only reason I tolerate those fools. Convert indeed. Ah...now that we have you securely in place, you must excuse me for a while. My latest subject still awaits my attention. I am not completely done with him yet'

Azrael turned his face sideways and saw Durk'anh walk over to the slanted table that he was working on before Azrael and Liha were brought to the lab. Durk'anh bent over and began to work on the body. Azrael heard a few faint noises and realised with horror that the person strapped to the table was still alive.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Liha was dragged along the stairs to the upper level, and further along the corridor from where he had first awoken. He was taking great care to memorize the layout of this Crypt. In truth, Liha was concerned for Azrael's safety. He knew Azrael was schooled enough in the ways of Blood to survive great amounts of physical damage, but he was at a critical point. The fight with the Abomination he had witnessed this morning was proof of that. Although he didn't say so explicitly, he knew Azrael's abilities after freedom from the Lich King had deteriorated considerably. When they had fought side by side under the Lich King executing his will, Azrael had survived wounds that even the best of the Blood Knights couldn't survive. Liha was there the day the Death Knights fell upon the Scarlet Enclave- the last bastion of the scarlet crusade. Azrael had been a demon that day hacking his way through hundreds of crusaders, completely oblivious to the wounds inflicted on him. While Liha's true mission lay in Stranglethorn Vale, he had been asked by Thassarian and other commanders of the Ebon Blade to check and report if Azrael was fit for duty in Northrend. Although Naxxramas had fallen, victories were rare and the scourge was ever gaining strength. Before he left Northrend, there was disturbing news from the Storm Peaks, relatively untouched by the scourge. They were expecting some trouble from an old titan complex found there, and would now be fighting battles on two fronts. They needed every able bodied soldier. What Liha had seen this morning had disturbed him deeply. More than he wanted Azrael to join him in Northrend, he was concerned about the inner demons that Azrael was facing and the horrors that he would now suffer under the blade of this demented Durk'anh.

'I can sense that you're scared Troll' said Lyresa with an evil smirk on her face. Her cowl was pulled back slightly and Liha noticed a shock of red hair falling across her forehead. A few cutting remarks came to mind quickly but he put them aside. Letting the woman think he was scared would probably be a good idea.

'Know this. You will be broken by Durk'anh and when Ilim has converted you, I will make you my personal puppet' she gloated.

Liha began to wonder how such an arrogant woman had survived long enough. He knew from her loss of control when he has insulted the Lich King that she was impatient. What little he knew of magic he knew from his schooling in the Unholy powers of a Death Knight. He also had the honor of fighting alongside the mages of the Kirin Tor and even warlocks that he had come across. He knew enough to know the great deal of patience and training required to call upon magic- elemental or demonic in nature, it didn't matter. He could feel this girls impatience and...immaturity. Liha could also sense the amount of magical prowess a person possessed. From what he saw, he knew Ilim was the only threat. This young girl here was most likely an apprentice, or an assistant lured into service by Ilim with promises of great power. He could feel her fear as she stood near Durk'anh. She could be dealt with very quickly indeed if he could catch her off guard.

They had stopped at a metal door. Lyresa opened it to reveal a large but dark makeshift dungeon of sorts, lit by a single torch by the door. The abomination threw him into the room. Crashing into the floor, he saw there were three other prisoners. All human. Before he could take note of their faces, the Abomination roughly pulled him up by the chains wrapped around him. Bulky though the fingers were, they were surprisingly adept and he was quickly chained to the wall.

'Keep and eye on them' said Lyresa to the Abomination. 'Don't hesitate to break their skulls if they try to escape' she added flashing a triumphant grin at the prisoners. Stupid little human girl thought Liha. She seemed more concerned with petty taunts and threats. The door was closed with the Abomination standing Guard on the inside a good thirty feet away from them.

'You are well kept?' came a voice in orcish from his left. Liha could see that the prisoner was a woman. She had short blonde hair, and would, he thought, be considered attractive by human standards.

'I speak common very well' replied Liha. He was amused and flattered that she displayed none of the racial bias that humans had so often subjected the horde to. Liha could count only a handful of humans and dwarves who could tolerate the presence of an orc or a troll. Even in undeath, under the service of the Lich King, many human Death Knights had retained their racial prejudices. Orbaz Bloodbane was the prime example of how deep the Alliance's hatred for the Horde was.

'Oh. I'm sorry' said the woman 'Corporal Inara Seron, Paladin of the Argent Dawn'.

'Liha, Knight of the Ebon Blade' he replied.

'A Death Knight' said Inara. That much was evident from his eyes. She too was bound to the wall in the same way Liha was. One of the other humans was lying unconscious on floor. The other human man was staring apprehensively at Liha. Meanwhile the Abomination stood in its place obscuring the door and staring stupidly at the wall.

'So how does a human paladin know orcish?' he asked seeing that there was little else to do. He might as well get to know his fellow prisoners. Even in Booty Bay, under organizations such as the Blackwater raiders, where Horde and Alliance meshed...fairly well, he could count the number of humans knowing orcish on one hand. Inara laughed

'Perhaps the same way a Troll knows common'

'I travel a lot' he said suppressing a grin. He knew from experience that a Troll grinning wasn't too comforting to other races, especially those of the Alliance who weren't used to it. It's mainly the tusks he thought to himself casually.

'It's a very long story. My father...served for some time in the Outlands, against the Burning Legion. My mother died when I was very young, so he took me along with him. I wasn't allowed into the army because I wasn't of age yet. I helped out mostly in the city of Shattrath, as an apprentice to many craftsmen, doing the odd job here and there, learning whenever I could. I spent my time surrounded by other races. He brought me up never to judge someone by their race. And I saw for myself that it was true'

'A very wise man. Where is he now?'

'Still in the Outlands. Many people lost much there, but I believe my father gained something. He fell in love with the place. With green hills of Nagrand'

'You did not care much for it?' asked Liha. Liha had heard much in the last few years about the Outlands and the war that took place there. He recalled that he was mostly 'privateering' with the Blackwater Raiders around that time.

'Oh no. I loved the Outlands as well. Despite everything that happened there, it has some of the most beautiful sights I have ever witnessed. On the rare occasions I could leave the city, that is. I showed affinity to the light and was allowed to join the Argent Dawn as soon as I came of age. And my father himself said that my duty came first. So here I am. In this...dungeon' she said casting a look at the walls around them.

'I wouldn't think a Death Knight could have gotten captured. They tell us that you're juggernauts of destruction' she said

'I could say the same about Paladins' said Liha. The girl was quick to apologize.

'Oh I didn't mean to offend you. I meant it-'

'-In earnest. So did I. I fought against Tirion Fordring and other Paladins of the Argent Dawn at the battle of Lights Hope Chapel. Were I to judge a Paladin's strength based on that battle, I would say us Death Knights wouldn't come too close'

'You fought against High lord Fordring?' asked Inara

'All of us did. Every Death Knight that was freed and is now a Knight of the Ebon Blade'

Inara nodded, probably recollecting the tale of the Argent Crusade's victory at lights chapel. The Scourge had vastly outnumbered the Argent Crusade- ten thousand scourge forces to less than three hundred of the Argent Crusade. Surely Inara had known of this great victory against the Lich King, as did every other paladin. A great victory for the Light. And a new addition to the fight against the scourge in the form of the Knights of the Ebon Blade.

'So how did you end up getting captured' asked Inara.

This was a question Liha had first tried to answer when he woke up.

'All I can remember is a bolt of shadow striking my head. And then suffocating me like a bubble around the head. And then I just remember fainting'

'Ilim' said the man. 'Me, Tom and Lady Inara just came up to the Mausoleum to see why master Tiaeus had not returned. We were beginning to worry'

'Master Tiaeus visits the grave of an old friend here' said Inara 'When we hadn't heard from him the whole day, I decided to check it out myself. I found the Courtyard empty and all I remember is the same thing that happened to you. William tells me he saw Ilim launch a bolt of shadow at me'

Liha turned to William.

'Did he take long to cast it?' asked Liha. This piece of information could be critical. Surely there was no mage or warlock powerful enough to cast a spell that so quickly overcomes a strong-willed mind, and then immediately use it again. If so, then Ilim was indeed one of the most powerful users of magic he had known.

'I didn't actually see him cast it. All I remember was that I was standing there while Lady Inara was looking around. And then I see something fly towards her head. After that I see Ilim and his two cronies walk out of the door'

'Did he use the same spell against you?' asked Liha. William was visibly embarrassed by this.

'No. er...They fought normally. They had some undead creatures with them as well...and...'

Liha spared him the trouble of explaining further by thanking him. It meant, in all probability, that the spell took too long to cast. It was only coincidence that Azrael had not noticed it hitting Liha, giving him some time to prepare the spell again. If indeed Azrael too had been taken the same way. And from the way the spell worked, Liha concluded that the element of surprise was vital. He would not be affected by it again. New spells often worked very well the first time due to opponents not knowing how to react. But Liha was sure he could put up a fight against it if he had to.

'Do you have any idea of the strength of the scourge here. Besides the three cultists? and the madman down below?' asked Liha.

'Madman?' asked Inara showing a little surprise. 'We only got here a few hours ago. What madman?'

'There an undead monstrosity in the level below this one. Durk'anh. He seems to be...working...on the prisoners. Conducting experiments...' his voice trailed off not wishing to go into the details of what Durk'anh was doing.

Inara's face grew wide with horror.

'When we were brought here, Tom was separated from us. I had been under the impression that they...they simply killed him'

Liha was confused.

'Isn't that Tom lying over there?' he said pointing to the unconscious human on the floor.

Inara's expression turned to a scowl.

'The man lying there calls himself Hack. He's nothing but a common thief, a rogue. Were our situation any better I would have had him arrested and thrown to rot in the Stormwind Stockade'

A rogue. Liha looked at him lying there in the corner oblivious of the situation he was in. He could come in useful. Although now that Liha noticed with much discomfort that he wasn't unconscious. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Oblivious of his situation

Liha began to piece it together. Noticing the old paladin missing, Inara and her two companions came to the Undercroft. There, they had been captured by Ilim. Surely, Ilim would have expected more people to come looking around for the ones that had gone missing, and had put the turned Tiaeus and some of the scourge on guard. So it was only a coincidence that him and Azrael had found this place. And it was only due to the Tiaeus visiting the grave of an old friend that Inara was here. The caravan raids would have eventually pointed to this place, but at the rate people went missing, and the strength of the empowered scourge that Ilim was building, it would only have been a short while before he had a sizeable army under his command. Were he to move to Stratholme and join the scourge there...Liha knew most of it was speculation, but he also knew that Ilim hadn't expected most of what had happened this day. The appearance of so many people at his doorstep this day had probably forced his hand. A quick strike by the Knights of the Ebon Blade and this scourge threat could be ended quickly. But first Liha needed to escape from here.

The Abomination was a construct of negligible intelligence, but it could follow simple orders very well. Any efforts by Liha to test the strength of the chain would no doubt lead to violence. Liha intended to use that against the Abomination. For now the bindings on his wrists and the chains prevented the use of his powers.

'Listen to me' said Liha addressing Inara. 'We're getting out of here'

Inara looked at him as if he were mad.

'How do you propose we do that?' asked Inara.

'Can you use any of your powers right now?' asked Liha.

'No' she replied. 'The chains have runes etched on them that prevent us from using any magic whatsoever'

Liha began thinking. He had none of his tools with him. His bag was full of small devices that he could craft that would have been very useful in a situation like this. His captors had done a thorough job in stripping off their weapons.

'Do you know where our weapons are being kept?' asked Liha

Inara shook her head.

'There's a small storage room a small way off this very room where they kept our weapons. Yours should be there as well' said William

'I was only hurt. I wasn't unconscious when they took us in' continued William. True thought Liha. After all he wasn't hit with the same spell the others were. His knowledge of the crypts layout could come in handy. After a little thinking Liha began to formulate a plan in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

'Ah. A curious being you are Death Knight' said Durk'anh as he was leaning over Azrael. Durk'anh had finished with his previous captive very quickly and spent some time storing away the organs he had extracted into a large cupboard near him.

Durk'anh made a show of lifting and examining various implements of torture that he had near him. An effort to scare Azrael. For some reason, hearing the plight of the Paladin Tiaeus had strengthened his resolve. He would bear whatever this fiend would inflict on him. He would not give it the satisfaction it sought.

'There are ways to see the fear a creature feels' said Durk'anh. Azrael remained silent.

'No? You do not understand? I am not speaking of magic Death Knight. I am not too concerned with such affairs. Useful as it is, I find it...incomplete. My physical strength serves me well enough in battle...If I am ever required to fight. My forte however, my true strength lies in my ability to understand creatures completely. I can see the pores on your body widen when you are afraid. I can feel and hear the sound of your breathing change when you are afraid. I can tell you are not afraid right now' said Durk'anh turning to face him again.

'I build constructs for the Lich King. I build Abominations, Geists and Ghouls. The plague works well enough by itself. But it is...without direction. Only the Lich King has the power to raise the fallen into such magnificent creatures as you. It is much harder for the rest of us who do not have his abilities. The only way to retain the strength of a creature not raised by the Lich King, is to kill or injure it systematically. The way I had killed the Paladin Tiaeus before infecting him with the plague. Granted he wouldn't have been as strong as before, but do be honest...He put up a much better fight than the other rabble did he not?'

Azrael took this in silently. If he was repulsed at what he had heard he did not show it. In many ways, what Durk'anh was doing was worse than what the Lich King was doing.

'I do hate it so when my subjects are as silent as you' sighed Durk'anh. 'Do not worry friend. You are already undead, in a way. Though all you Death Knights seem to have retained much of what you were before death. What makes you fascinating is that you have broken free of HIS will. There aren't many who can lay claim to that. I wasn't at Lights Hope naturally, or I wouldn't be here right now. So tell me...What did the paladin Tirion do? did you feel a great light wash over your body? was there some magic that Tirion performed? Was it the so-called sacred ground?'

Azrael did not speak.

'Very well. If you don't feel like speaking then lets get to work'

Azrael felt incredible pain starting at his stomach that sent him into a violent spasm. He lifted his neck up to see that Durk'anh had sliced a portion of his stomach on the other side. Azrael leaned his head back and smashed it into the table as he felt Durk'anh's cold hands working on the wound. A few seconds later the pain grew so intense, that Azrael was forced to call upon his powers. Instead of feeling the power of Blood entering his body, he felt a cold shudder and pain was compounded further. The magical restraints were preventing him from calling upon his powers. A minute later the pain grew so intense that his eyes rolled back into his head. Azrael felt a tug inside of him. In a sudden flash he felt something pull him deeper inside of his own body. And then only blackness.

Azrael was sitting in a room. New Avalon. The Scarlet Tavern. One of their earliest victories against the scarlet crusade. They had captured the Tavern and were using it as a makeshift command post. Orbaz Bloodbane was standing a few feet away from where Azrael was sitting. Right next to him, one foot on a broken table and leaning on his thighs was Thassarian

'Why do you care, Thassarian? His weakness led to his capture. Only the strong should survive. Not to mention...' said Orbaz Bloodbane.

'What, Orbaz?' shot back Thassarian 'That he's a blood elf? In life we were hated enemies - this is true. But in death... We are the children of the damned. The bastard sons and daughters of the Scourge. In death we are brothers.'

'To hell with you, Thassarian' Said Orbaz and that was his final word.

Azrael remembered this. Since the time he fought for the Lich King, this was the first conscious thought that he had. Voluntarily. Although his own mind protested his decision, Azrael had already decided what he would do. Their primary objective had been to intercept a courier. That mission was vital to their success against the Scarlet Crusade. Yet he had sided with Thassarian choosing to delay their main objective and had volunteered for a rescue mission. Koltira Deathweaver, a Blood elf Death Knight had been captured by the scarlet crusade and was being held prisoner. Orbaz was prejudiced against members of the Horde, but Azrael felt deep inside that what Thassarian had said was true.

Azrael felt himself pulled out of the inn and reappeared in the basement of the Scarlet Hold where Koltira was being held prisoner.

He remembered this vividly. It was the first time his powers had failed him. He thought it was because he had gone against the will of the Lich King in accepting this mission. He had broken into the Scarlet Hold easily enough and had found out that Koltira was being held prisoner in the basement. During that whole time, he could not call upon his powers as easily as he had done so earlier. He remembered the fight in the basement very well. A wounded Koltira and himself were being overwhelmed by enemies. Azrael felt the same disgust that overwhelmed him when he reached deep into himself to call upon the powers of Blood. Yet that day something had broken the barrier and he was finally able to call upon them when he needed them the most. At the end of the day, they had been victorious. Azrael escorted his wounded companion out of the basement. He remembered standing outside the Hold, supporting his wounded brother on his shoulders. Suddenly he felt the pull again. He awoke.

'Most impressive!' remarked Durk'anh. Azrael opened his eyes with a snap He felt warm blood underneath his head. He didn't need to think much to know where it came from. His arms felt like they were being pulled out of his socket. His wrists were pressed very hard against the manacles and he could feel the wetness of blood as the manacles pressed deep into his skin.

'I hadn't realised it possible, but you seem to have a remarkable ability to heal. While this makes your conversion difficult, I hope you realize that I dont need to be so...careful when I'm playing with you'

Azrael did not care for what Durk'anh was going to do. For the first time after his freedom from the Lich King, Azrael had been able to call upon his powers completely. Just like the time he did in the basement with Koltira. Granted they did not have the effect he needed them to, considering he was restrained by the damned magical manacles.

Before Azrael could think further, the pain overcame him again. Durk'anh resumed his work. A scream escaped from him involuntarily. Durk'anh would think it was scream of pain. But Azrael had felt pain much deeper than what Durk'anh was causing him. He had been feeling the pain of a thousand lost lives every single day since he escaped the will of the Lich King. In a blur he lost consciousness again.

He was kneeling outside the Chapel of the Crimson Flame. This time in the town of New Avalon. This was shortly after he had freed Koltira. The town was in ruins, the chapel itself was still burning. Azrael's sword was plunged into the ground. Azrael sat looking motionless at the ground. He did not remember yet, but he had just done something that caused grief to overcome him. He couldn't cry anymore. Not after he had become one of the scourge. Yet he felt that was the only thing that could free him of what he felt now. He strained his mind trying to recollect why he was so sad. He felt a cold hand rest on his shoulder. Azrael quickly stood up and turned to face Knight-Commander Plaguefist.

'Felt good, didn't it? You're not one of them anymore, Azrael. You're Scourge. You're one of us. Forever...' the emotionless voice had said.

Azrael remembered staring into the Plaguefist's eyes and seeing nothing but emptiness.

'You're one of us. Forever...'

He turned to see the Chapel. The roof caved in as the chapel continued to burn. Azrael stood there watching for minutes until the chapel was reduced to ashes. The words kept ringing in his head.

'You're one of us. Forever...'

Yet, throughout the time Azrael had stood there, another voice, one that he had heard just a short while ago inside the chapel kept trying to reach out to him. Azrael had missed it back then, and it was pushed away to the recesses of his mind. But right now he was back at that place with a clearer consciousness. He would not miss it again. He tried hard to focus on the one single voice he was trying to find.

'Come to finish the job, have you?' Yes. That was the voice he needed to pick out from the hundreds that screamed in his head.

'Azrael, I'd recognize that face anywhere... What... What have they done to you, Azrael?' It was a female voice.

'Think Azrael. think back...' He knew that voice. He knew it very well indeed.

Azrael concentrated harder, trying to listen and make out what it was saying.

'Try and remember the hills and valleys of Elwynn, where you were born...'

The voice was clearer now. Azrael could feel his heart caving in. Ellen. Azrael was tasked by Knight-commander Plaguefist to execute the last group of prisoners who were being held in the Chapel of the crimson flame. There he had found Ellen, amongst the prisoners. He did not recognize her at first.

'There... There's no more time for me. I'm done for. Finish me off, Azrael. Do it or they'll kill us both. Azrael... Remember Elwynn. This world is worth saving'

He looked at the bloody Rune blade that was lying on the ground. The blood was still fresh.

Azrael let loose a violent scream. His throat burned as screams erupted from within. He could feel his vocal cords rip as the anguish he had held for months came flooding out. He felt revulsion flood his body but he would accept it. There was no more time for self pity. He had done what he had done. He had accepted the consequences. He had lost much of himself when he was under the Lich King. He wasn't going to lose it a second time. He owed it to thousands of lives that he took at the Lich King's command. He owed it to Ellen.

Azrael's hands had broken free of the table shattering the restraining manacles. Azrael felt his side burn with the open wound. It didn't matter. This monstrosity would die today for the crimes it had committed. Azrael had leapt off the table hurtling into Durk'anh and had bowled him over. Taking the both of them crashing into the table that held all of Durk'anh's implements.

'AAAAAAH' yelled Durk'anh as a number of the sharp objects pierced his back. He was lying on the ground now, trying to push of an enraged Azrael off his body.

In a bloodthirsty rage, Azrael began pummeling Durk'anh's face. He could feel bone shatter underneath his wrists. His common sense screamed to him that it wouldn't be enough. But it didn't matter. He would rip open Durk'anh's head with his own hands if he had to. Free of the magical restraints, Blood power flooded him. He reached for a scalpel. In Azrael's hands it was nearly a short sword.

With a cry of rage, Durk'anh kicked with his legs launching Azrael into the air. Azrael managed to turn over quickly mid air and landed on his feet like a cat.

'You want to play Death Knight? Very well' he yelled getting up on his feet. He grabbed a large pole arm from the corner and made to move towards Azrael.

Azrael's body had already begun healing. He was still losing a lot of blood, but he would not die. He held the weapon aloft and fell into his battle stance. Through all the layers of guilt wracking his mind, Azrael was sure of one thing...Durk'anh would die today.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

'You want to what?' exclaimed Inara. William was visibly worried. Liha did not blame him for he knew William was not a coward. As far as Liha was concerned, not everyone could shoot bolts of ice from their hands or call Unholy magic. Hack, the rogue, was awake too. In stark contrast to William, Hack seemed hardly to care about their predicament. Either he was very brave, or he had long since accepted his fate. Liha knew rogues were very tricky characters. He had known enough in life and undeath to know they had many means of escape.

'Even if you did get the Abomination to come over here, and in the unlikely event that you killed it, how are we going to escape from here. We're chained in place and the door is locked' said Inara.

'You can leave the door to me' said Hack. 'I could have opened that lock when I was stripling young pickpocket working my trade on the streets of Stormwind. My only problem is this damn chain'. Inara's face showed her disgust.

'Firstly' said Liha. 'These aren't the chains one would use in a dungeon. A proper dungeon would have had manacles to the wall leaving us with no room to move about. These are chains more akin to the ones you would use in tying up an animal. We do have enough room to maneuver around our big friend when he gets here.'

'Secondly, these chains are made of cast iron' he continued. 'Which when frozen beyond a point begins to weaken and crack. A chain made of metal like saronite would never weaken. Our captors would have found these chains already in the crypt or from the wagons and houses nearby'

'And how are you going to freeze the chains?'

Liha smiled. This was the crucial part of the plan. Straining and testing his magic against the restraints, he found that they functioned much like a valve would in regulating water. He couldn't release a flood of energy without feeling a backlash from their magic injuring them. But he could release a weak but steady flow of energy that the bindings wouldn't stop. The energy was no where enough to collect into a burst and hit the abomination. But it was enough to lower the temperature of the room to his desired point. He began releasing the energy of his icy touch. It was working on his chains. Inara seemed to have noticed this and was looking intently. The iron was shrinking but it wasn't breaking entirely. He gave a few short tugs on the chain. Nothing happened. He pulled harder.

'YOU LEAVE CHAIN ALONE' came a rough voice from the other end of the room.

The abomination was peering at them stupidly. Liha stood up and gave a sharp tug on the chain. The abomination hurled the chained scourge hook it held towards him. He sidestepped its path and it banged into the wall with a resounding clank. Quickly Liha moved to entangle the hook into his own chain. The abomination tried retracting its hook, but it was stuck between Liha's own chains. With a roar the abomination bounded towards him brandishing the giant meat cleaver in its other hand. Liha avoided a slash by leaping into the air. He needed to be quick. He would get only one chance. Even with his armor he wouldn't have survived a single blow from the cleaver. Frustrated, the abomination lifted its cleaver to deliver an over handed chop. Liha was quick to bring up his hands. In a single slice the saronite cleaver ripped through the chains. Liha felt a burst of energy as the cuffs restraining him fell to the ground. He released a burst of ice into the abomination at close range. He then proceeded to apply the other diseases that an unholy death knight used. Abomination was swinging wildly now. Avoiding its swings Liha grabbed the hook that was now lying on the floor. It wasn't as good as his rune weapon, but it was as large as a curved short sword in his hands. Liha leapt into the air burying the hook into the side of the abominations neck and dragged it down opening a gash. He rolled on the floor moving to get behind the abomination. The abomination twisted around trying to find its target. Its legs were now stuck in the chains as well. Liha pulled hard on the chain and released a Death Coil. The shadowy energy struck the abomination in the face causing it to lose balance and it fell crashing into the wall. Liha leapt onto it and began hacking away with abandon. In a few minutes the abomination lay on the ground motionless.

'Not exactly what I had in mind' said Liha standing up.

'Quick. We don't have any time to lose' he said turning to the other three prisoners who were staring open mouthed at what had just happened.

'The chains' said Inara.

Liha grabbed the giant cleaver. It was certainly heavier than any axe that he had handled. He leapt into the air and brought it down with full force on Inara's chains cutting them in half. Suddenly he felt the room fill with a faint and warm glow. Paladins always had that effect. She quickly put her hands over him. Healing. In a few seconds Liha felt all exhaustion fade away, and all the minor wounds on his body healed as well. He took a moment to free the other two prisoners. He was hoping that Lyresa, the arrogant apprentice, was arrogant enough to not keep a close watch on them. The dungeon he remembered was a small way off from the room where he was first awoken. Still there was a good chance that the ruckus hadn't been heard.

The three remaining prisoners were on their feet now. While the other two were ready for combat, Hack uncharacteristically stretched his body as one would after waking up. He walked to door and set to work on it almost lazily. Just when Liha thought he would suggest trying to force the door open with his cleaver, he heard a faint click, and the creak of the door as it opened.

'Piece of cake' said Hack turning to them and smiling

'William, show us to the storage where our weapons are being kept' said Liha

As silently as possible, the four of them made their way across the corridor. William had already told them that they were on the second level of the crypt. The first level was the simplest chamber, a room with four walls filled with Scourge. The second level however was the heart of the crypt and was expansive. Most of the scourge were contained in chambers or patrolling the corridors. His first goal was to get his rune blade. While the cleaver was deadly enough, he could not wield with proficiency. A death Knight's rune blade served as a conduit for the power he contained. To their right was the corridor that led to the cultists' chambers. William silently pointed towards the other end. Liha strained his ears to check for any sounds. He could near numerous clicks coming from the direction William was pointing to. Were these ordinary scourge, Liha could have made do with the cleaver, but enhanced as they were with Ilim's runes, Liha doubted if he could handle them alone. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Inara. She was a trained Paladin. Liha knew enough about paladins to know that they were deadly against undead beings- even unarmed. After what seemed a very long time, the clicks began to recede. The four of them moved together slowly and stopped by the adjacent chamber. William nodded his head. This was the storage. And it wasn't locked. They quickly armed themselves. Liha found his own armor and weapons stacked at the top of the pile along with Azrael's. Inara had the preferred weapon of Paladins, a hammer and her silver plate armor. William his standard issue Stormwind armor and shield. Hack...where was Hack? Liha turned around and saw that there were only three of them now.

'Where's the rogue?' he asked.

'The sneaky rat! he abandoned us! I knew we should have left him chained to the wall' said Inara

Liha wouldn't have abandoned anyone to the scourge, but he too felt disgusted at the human's actions. A rogue's 'magic' if you could call it that had more to do with their physical abilities, and a study of the art of sinking into shadows and melding with them. If Hack was even half a rogue, Liha knew he could easily make his way out. Right now they didn't have time to worry about him.

'So how are we getting out?' asked William.

Liha looked at Azrael's rune blade.

'A brother of my order is being held in the chamber below. I need to get to him first'

Inara nodded. William had a look that said he wouldn't enjoy going deeper into the crypt. But he too sighed and nodded. Liha began to lead them towards the staircase that would take them below when he came face to face with a robed cultist. Lyresa. She was flanked by two armored skeletons.

They stood looking at each other for a second. She gave a shriek and brought her hands together to cast a spell. The two skeletons flanking her rushed forward to meet him. He quickly leapt back and launched his most readily available spell at Lyresa. A skull of shadow bolted towards her and hit her in the chest. Her concentration was broken and the spell fizzled. Her face was frozen in shock and horror. An accomplished spell caster would have been able to continue his spell through the disturbance. A smile ran across Liha's lips. Arrogant novice after all. He quickly brought up his blade to meet one of the skeletons. Inara and William had engaged the other one. Lyresa let out a scream and turned to run. Damn her, thought Liha struggling to try and move past the skeleton blocking his way. She would alert the entire complex. Liha applied the magical diseases to the skeleton and began hacking away at it furiously. After it slowed down he launched a volley of Death Coils finishing it. Inara and William had held their own. Their skeleton was in pieces at the floor. Liha quickly looked around for Lyresa. She had no doubt reached the cultists chamber and alerted Ilim by now.

'We have more company' said Inara. Liha turned his head around and saw four rotting ghouls come into the corridor. He had no time to lose. The battle had begun.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Azrael deftly stepped out of harms way as Durk'anh brought down the massive pole arm shattering the floor where he had just been standing. He dodged two more strikes. He could feel it. With each passing moment he was gaining strength. His earlier actions had been those borne out of sheer rage, from the release of pent-up emotions. He was past that now. The rage had died out quickly and given way to his training. He had complete control of himself. In quick fluid movements, he dropped into a roll and buried his knife on the back of Durk'anh's knee, twisted it and yanked it out in time to avoid Durk'anh's spear thrusting at him. The wound wasn't fatal- not in the least.

'Do you really think you can hurt me with that toy, Death Knight?'

Durk'anh appeared to stand still then with a speed that belied his size, he rushed forward to stab Azrael in the heart. Azrael managed to move away just in time, but still took a graze to the shoulder. Durk'anh was nearly atop him. Holding the weapon in one hand, he swung with his offhand knocking Azrael to the ground. With a roar he thrust the polearm downward to impale his fallen enemy. In a flash, Azrael left his scalpel and brought up both his hands to grip the polearm right beneath the blade. He felt the handle slide through his sweaty hands and the blade come to rest inches from his chest. It took every ounce of Azrael's strength to hold the polearm. Durk'anh had the advantage of height and looked to be three times heavier. This stalemate wouldn't last long. Azrael's healing was vastly improved, but he wouldn't be able to take a fatal strike to the heart. Durk'anh began lean down with his weight driving the polearm closer to his mark. Azrael pulled back both his feet and shot out with them in a two-legged kick to Durk'anh's injured knee. He felt both his feet go through breaking the foot away from his foe's leg. Azrael heard a scream of agony and felt the weight relieved as Durk'anh was losing balance trying to support himself. Still gripping the polearm Azrael shot to his feet and pulled with all his might. Though in agony, Durk'anh held on to his side and pulled. The handle was made of very sturdy wood. Azrael moved forward with the weapon, and swung over it landing his foot on the handle with all his might. The shaft broke, leaving Azrael with the Weapon edge and Durk'anh with a near useless shaft of wood. Azrael lost no time in rushing into Durk'anh. With a savagery that befit a former champion of the Lich King, he swung the weapon several times causing several fatal injuries to the monster. Durk'anh was absorbing most of the blows with his hands, which to Azrael seemed too leathery and thick to be cut through, and were covering most of his face and body. Seeing his good leg exposed, Azrael brought the polearm's blade down into Durk'anh's thigh. Calling forth all his might, he drove it deep in. He felt a fist strike his face. Ignoring the pain he twisted the polearm splitting bone and rotting flesh. Another blow. This one connected to his mouth. Azrael felt his teeth loosen and his mouth fill with blood. He twisted it in deeper and split the thigh completely until a vast chunk of it simply broke away. He felt another blow head towards him. He moved his face away in time to feel the fist brush against his cheek. Azrael quickly thrust the blade to his opponent's open face, driving it into his mouth. An inhuman scream. Then Azrael felt a massive blow to his face that launched him off his feet. The weapon still lodged in his enemy's face, Azrael flew and fell a few feet away. Durk'anh rushed in dragging both his broken feet, walking on the stump of one leg, and his hand gripping the mutilated thigh of the other. The weapon was lodged deep inside his face, the handle sticking out. With what sounded like triumphant roar, Durk'anh leapt into the air determined to crush Azrael with his sheer weight. Azrael wouldn't be able to move away in time, instead he folded in both his feet just in time to meet Durk'anh's chest. The impact was tremendous. Azrael felt his stomach crunch as his knees were pushed into them. Blood filled his mouth and began to spill from the open wound on his left. With each second, he felt his bones tremble more, as his muscles were stretched to their limit. Durk'anh was too heavy, and Azrael was running out of breath. Azrael reached in and called upon his powers to sustain him. They were being pushed as far as he had ever taken them before. Azrael managed to move his hands above his shoulders as if to do a handstand. He pushed and was now almost upside down. He felt the weight transfer to his spine and knees touch his face. Closing his eyes, he pulled out the images of the residents of Havenshire that he slaughtered; the numerous innocents that he killed under the influence of the Lich King. Tiaeus. The old man that Azrael had to kill who was tortured and turned into undead by this foul creature. His anger fueling him, he pushed upwards with his legs and hands. He felt Durk'anh rise. He wouldn't be able to throw off the incredible weight. Just a little bit more. He felt the weight press down on his neck now; It was all he could do to use his powers to prevent it from breaking. In a sudden motion, he let his left leg drop tilting the balance of the massive weight he was holding up and pushed sideways to the right with both his hands. Durk'anh slid and crashed into the ground on his chest. Azrael pushed with both hands, rising up in the air and landing on Durk'anh's back. Pressing his knee against it, he gripped Durk'anh's neck from behind with one hand, using his other to grip the handle of the polearm and pulled back with whatever strength he had remaining. The head snapped off. Azrael flew back holding it and flopped onto the ground on his back. He inhaled deeply and coughed up blood. There was no need to look up. Durk'anh was dead. He lay eyes closed for what seemed to be a full minute. Pain and fatigue caught up with him. Every muscle in his body had been pushed beyond its limit.

Taking a deep breath he forced himself to stand up. He couldn't rest now. While Durk'anh was disposed of, the real enemy was Ilim. He had to trust that his abilities would keep him alive and allow him to continue without rest. Azrael looked around and found the scalpel he had been using earlier. It was only as big as a short sword but it would have to do for now. He found a pile of bloody clothes lying in one corner and robed himself hastily. He ran to the single door that served as the entrance and exit to this chamber and began running up the stairs.

He had a lot on his mind at the moment beyond the fact that he was two levels beneath. The flashes into his past that he had experienced while under Durk'anh's blade.

His thoughts were interrupted as he neared the entry into the upper level. Voices. Azrael leapt back down along the winding and crouched remaining completely silent and out of sight.

'They had already escaped and were armed when I went to check on them master. I came to you and master Ilim as soon as I could' A female voice. Lyresa.

'You fool' said another male voice. It wasn't Ilim. Azrael remembered the distinct rasping voice Ilim had. It was the third cultist.

'I wont be spoken to...'

'Shut up you ignorant whelp. You can't do one thing right'

Azrael made out that the voices stopped at the entrance.

'I don't see how I'm to blame for this. Besides, they're not going anywhere. Once master Ilim completes the ritual, they'll all be dead'

'Again you show your ignorance, fool of a girl. We cannot afford the risk of anyone escaping. Everything we have worked for will be undone. We are not yet ready for this'. He was shouting now.

'Remove yourself from my sight. Fetch Durk'anh now. Tell him his services are urgently required here. I will deal with you after this is done'

He heard a set of footsteps receding. Azrael crouched and held his weapon ready to spring up as soon as his enemy came round the bend.

A panting Lyresa suddenly appeared from above. The cowl was now thrown back revealing bright red hair that was visible even in the darkness. Before she could react to his presence, Azrael pounced on her knocking her down. He quickly jammed his hand under her throat and squeezed to prevent her from screaming or casting a spell. He held the scalpel to her face. Lyresa's eyes went wide with horror.

'If you scream, you die' Azrael said in a menacing whisper 'I want you to understand that fully before I let you breathe. Do you understand?'

Lyresa tried to nod. Azrael could feel her running out of breath. He slowly released his left hand and held the scalpel under her throat. He was surprised to see tears welling up in her eyes. Cultist she might be, but she looked to be no more than twenty years of age. Azrael quickly washed away any pity he felt for her. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes now. Not with so much at stake. He reminded himself that the whole of the Eastern Plaguelands were at risk if the cultists here weren't stopped today. Everything the Knights of the Ebon Blade and the Silver Hand worked for in the past three months would be undone if this place turned into a scourge stronghold. He did not have time, but he needed to know a few things. Taking a hold of himself he spoke.

'What ritual?'

Lyresa remained silent. He pressed the scalper harder against her neck drawing blood. Lyresa was nearly crying now.

'Mas-master Ilim. He...began a ritual' the voice came out in mumbles. Azrael could only wonder what the demented cultist was up to.

'He s-started it when I told him the prisoners escaped' Azrael remained silent and held the blade at her throat.

'I want to go home' Lyresa closed her eyes and sniffed. He could feel her trembling now.

Countless lives lost to the scourge. Cultists like her were the worst of the lot. Yet Azrael noted she had no strength in her. Underneath the veil of arrogance and a show of power, she was nothing more than a scared child. Azrael could only wonder at what made her cast her lot in with people such as Ilim.

'Show them no mercy' The voice of the Lich King. He had heard that phrase repeatedly in his head on every single mission he carried out for his former master. More than just an act of cruelty, Azrael understood the logic in it. An enemy left to survive would rise up once more to strike again. Power corrupted because it had to. He was taught as a Death Knight, that true power could not afford the luxury of showing mercy.

Yet ...where would Mograine, him and the other Death Knights be today if Tirion had chosen to kill them all on that fateful day at lights chapel.

Sighing, Azrael pulled back the blade and stood up standing over her. Lyresa was still on the ground. She had her eyes closed and was now sobbing. If she was even an amateur spell caster, she could have killed Azrael in the time he had given her. Lyresa crept back and leaned against the wall staring at Azrael while trying to dry her eyes with her robes. Azrael continued staring at her. She spoke in a clear tone now.

'The runes branded onto the scourge. They are tied to Ilim. They work to make the scourge stronger as long as he lives. If you...could kill him...then...'

This surprised Azrael. This was invaluable information. But was she telling him this only to save her own life? She was biting her lip and staring expectantly at him. He pulled back his right hand and struck her on the temple with the blade's handle knocking her out cold. As soon has he did it, he was glad that he wasn't stupid enough to leave her running around. If all worked out well, he would try and come back for her. Everyone deserved at least one chance at redemption. If it didn't work out...well...Azrael was sure this novice 'cultist' would be the least of their problems.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Not good. Liha counted three more additions to their enemies. Two abominations and another ghoul had joined the fray. Inara was locked in battle with one of the abominations. Her attacks came in short bursts but were utterly devastating. The Light hated demonkind and the undead with a brutal passion and no attack channeling it would miss. Inara seemed to handle herself well enough.

Liha hoped she could. She had no choice. Liha himself was facing the other one. He ducked as low as he could to avoid a swipe intended for his head. As well as two of the ghouls, which was a blessing in disguise. Liha was trading blows with the ghouls and moving around to put them between him and his much more deadlier foe. So far it seemed to work. Slowed down by the powers of ice and his diseases, the ghouls couldn't harm him too much as long as he parried their blows. The abomination was visibly frustrated while the ghouls got in its way taking the hits meant for him. The ghouls were little more than wrecked bones and flesh trying to move around. Both of them fell to the ground with a Death Coil each from Liha. The Abomination stepped on the them crushing them and stood right over Liha and began to wildly swing its weapons. Under the effects of his diseases it was certainly slowed down. He maneuvered around the abomination striking it several times with his empowered weapon. Each strike opened a gash. He had expended enough of his power to kill at least ten ordinary abominations. The runes branded onto their skin made them extremely hard to kill. This was a race against time, and if more reinforcements arrived...they were already pressed to their limit. Liha noticed that William was cornered by three ghouls. He adopted a purely defensive strategy. Using his shield effectively and blocking everything he could. Either Inara or Liha had to help him if he was to survive any longer.

All of a sudden Liha felt a tremendous force crash into his side. Knocked off his feet, Liha nearly dropped his weapon. He moved just in time to avoid getting chopped into half. His side felt as if it was being eaten away. He could smell the after effects of a shadow bolt. He glanced at the direction it had come from. Great. The third cultist stood at the entrance to the corridor and was readying another spell. Liha spared a few seconds to curse Lyresa. He had his own defenses against spell casters. Drawing upon his unholy power, he created a barrier around himself. It wasn't permanent but Liha knew it would absorb the next spell the cultist would throw at him. Liha focused on the abomination and hacked away opening more wounds. He felt a shimmer as a second bolt hit him- a much stronger one. As predicted his barrier had absorbed it. The abomination was relentless. Liha couldn't call the barrier for some more time. Moving quickly he turned around to put the abomination between himself and the cultist. It was large enough to shield him from the spells. And maybe, Liha thought hopefully, would take some damage from the spells as well. Liha shot a glance at William. He was pushed into a corner by two of the ghouls. Good. He had managed to kill one. Liha heard a scream. Inara. He turned and saw that her shoulder was encased in a blob of shadow. Unable to get a clear view of Liha, he had turned his attention to Inara. Cursing, Liha pointed his blade at the pile of bones that was the ghoul. A ray of black light hit it and the ghoul rose to serve Liha. He sent a mental command to it setting it on the cultist. He was sure that it wouldn't live long, but it would surely harry the cultist for a short while. He heard an explosion and saw that the ghoul exploded mid air before it could reach its target. Avoiding the abomination's strikes, Liha could see that the cultist had a wicked grin on his face. This one was no novice, thought Liha. He was running out of ideas. He could have handled the abomination alone in time. And maybe the cultist alone. But he couldn't fight both at once. He glanced and saw that the cultist was readying another spell. This one was aimed at Inara.

Liha had to stop him. Just before the spell was cast, Liha leaped into a roll disengaging his opponent and landed squarely between Inara and the cultist. He already heard the abomination dragging its wounded body towards him. Liha braced himself. The spell never came. The cultist's hands stopped tracing symbols into the air and clutched at his chest. His face turned into a grimace and mouthed a soundless scream. Standing behind him was Azrael. Liha hadn't the faintest idea how Azrael had escaped, but joy flooded into him. His friend was alive. Renewed by the Azrael's appearance, Liha turned to the abomination and met it with his sword. Azrael looked to be in bad condition, wearing rags that seemed to be soaked in blood. His own blood perhaps, though Liha, but Azrael could not have chosen a better time to come. Liha pulled Azrael's rune blade from his back and tossed it to him. Azrael caught it and smiled.

'You took your time getting here' joked Liha. Azrael had joined him against the abomination. It wouldn't stand a chance against their combined assault.

'Oh, I had to old friend. I was watching you...' replied Azrael speaking between breaths. 'I had to see if you were still...as fast as you were. And if the time spent in Northrend had done you any good'

Liha snorted. The abomination had lost both its limbs and was flailing around with its body now.

'You were doing so well...' he continued with mocking sadness, echoing Liha's own words that morning. Liha didn't believe a word of it. He fell back laughing. Azrael struck down the abomination with a final blow, lopping its head off.

The ghouls attacking William were already wounded and Liha took care of them with ease. The last foe remaining was the abomination that Inara was facing. It didn't stand a chance.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

'I fear this is the best I can do for now' said Inara. They had gained a momentary reprieve after clearing this room of their enemies in which Azrael had been introduced to Liha's new companions. Corporal Inara, Paladin of the Silver Hand, had almost immediately been troubled by Azrael's wounds and had insisted on healing them as best as she could, even if it did take time. She still had a doubtful look on her face.

'He's survived far worse wounds' said Liha trying to ease Inara's discomfort.

Azrael had told Liha of Durk'anh's death while he was wearing his armor. He had mentioned of the connection between the runes and Ilim altering the story to tell them that Durk'anh had let it slip in his overconfidence. He wasn't sure how any of them would take to the news that he hadn't killed Lyresa. They had nodded. Azrael learnt from William that the level above them was filled with scourge as well.

'Why aren't they attacking us then?' asked Inara looking around

She was answered by a long groaning noise which seemed to come from everywhere. It was followed by a series of clicks and scraping metal. Azrael knew that sound. Scourge. And it grew louder steadily. They were heading towards them. He could not tell how many, but being enhanced as they were by Ilim, it would only be a matter of time before him and his companions fell to their numbers. He quickly made a decision.

'Go now! I'll try and hold them off as long as possible. They key to this battle is Ilim. If he dies, the scourge will be weakened. Even the four of us together will not last against the scourge as long as Ilim lives'

'You cannot hope to-' Inara was interrupted by Liha.

'He's right. The longer Ilim lives, the lesser our chances of surviving this. We have no choice. Azrael is the only one among us who can stand against them long enough'

'But his wounds..' she continued.

'They are of no consequence. Trust me' said Azrael 'Go! NOW!'

Azrael watched Liha and the others depart towards the chamber where Ilim would be. He knelt down and placed the rune blade in front of him on the ground and touched the blade with both hands. He would only have a few seconds. He collected his strength to prepare himself for the ordeal. The noises grew louder and Azrael saw the first of his enemies enter the room. There was no time to lose.

Picking up his sword, Azrael charged it with inhuman speed. Purely on the offensive, he gave no attention to it's attacks, striking it quickly at all points he knew undead were vulnerable. The runes on his blade glowed as he channeled their power to destroy the skeleton. More enemies had entered the room. Azrael quickly made to attack these as well. He knew how this would turn out. The more time he held them back, the more Liha would have to kill Ilim. More scourge would come. He could hear the scraping of an Abomination's meat hook on the ground. When the numbers would become overwhelming, which they would in a matter of minutes, he would have to become completely defensive. But till then, his best bet lay in killing as many of the scourge as quickly as he could. Three more ghouls entered the room. The skeletons circled him to find an opening.

It was not advisable to overuse certain tools that he had at his disposal. But these were extreme circumstances. He ran his thumb across the rune blade drawing blood. The wound healed immediately owing to the rush of battle that he felt heightening his powers- a rush he had not felt since he first became free from the Lich King. He held the thumb to his mouth and felt the familiar taste of blood and steel. He felt his head explode, his eyes pulled back into their sockets. He could barely feel his limbs as the hysteria overcame him. He exploded into motion striking everything within reach, with a balance and precision that was very alien to the utter chaos that he felt overcome him. Through the haze of his spell he could make out more enemies come to join the fray. Live or die, he decided, today he would prove that whatever else he was- a half undead monster, a butcher of innocents, a former pawn of the Lich King, a reinstated soldier of the Alliance- first and foremost he was and always will be a Death Knight of the Ebon Blade.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

In truth, Liha was very worried about his friend. But he knew that as a Blood Death Knight, the chances of survival were highest among the group for Azrael. Liha himself could attack with greater speed and devastation but he would die too quickly. In view of the situation, he had pushed his concern for Azrael's safety to the back of his head. The more pressing and immediate matter was Ilim. Azrael had informed them that the Scourge were enhanced with Ilim's magic and Ilim's death would drastically weaken them. But he had sensed something wasn't right when Azrael had mentioned it. He did not like to think Azrael was lying, but under the Lich King, the Death Knight's had developed a shared consciousness of sorts. They did not know how it worked but it helped them work effectively as a team. Regardless of how he came by the information, Liha knew it had to be true. So their goal now was to kill Ilim. And quickly, if Azrael was to live. Even the greatest Blood Death Knight would not be able to withstand an onslaught such as the one Azrael would be facing for too long. He could hear Inara panting as she ran alongside him. And William behind her. The three of them should be able to kill Ilim. Hopefully. He could hear the sounds of a battle raging behind him as he moved away from the room. The sand in the hourglass had begun falling for Azrael. It was now up to the three of them to kill Ilim. Liha burst into the chamber. He had an exceedingly good memory and the features of the large chamber where they had first woken after being taken prison was burnt into his mind. There was only one major difference as he entered the chamber now. The ground was covered with many of the same runes that Liha had seen covering the bodies of the scourge they had been fighting. The ground was also scattered with several bones and viscera. Standing in the center of the pattern of glowing runes on the floor was Ilim. Beneath the cowl Liha could see that Ilim was grinning. Inara and William had just entered the chamber behind him and were spreading out to encircle Ilim

Without wasting time, Liha leapt towards Ilim holding his sword raised. An instant before his weapon connected, Ilim ha disappeared and was now standing a few feet away in the same chamber. Liha knew the abilities of mages and warlocks to teleport. As he prepared to launch his own magic at Ilim, the runes on the ground glowed and suddenly a skeleton appeared in place to attack Liha, forming effortlessly from the pile bones that littered the ground. He was quick to let go of his previous spell and fall back into defense against the new foe. Inara raised her hand as if holding a chalice in the air. The result was a golden hammer that materialized above the skeleton's head, striking it with a clang that resonated throughout the chamber. Liha finished it off with a strike to its spine. More runes began to glow and more of the piles of bones began to animate into full skeletons. Liha saw that Ilim was concentrating and channeling a spell. Liha launched a blast of Ice towards Ilim to interrupt the casting. The blast appeared to hit him square in the chest, but Liha noticed with his trained eyes that Ilim had cast his own spell in time to shatter the blast of ice. Ilim was good. And he was prepared. His Icy blast has served its purpose but there were now four skeletons moving about.

'I must commend your resourcefulness' He heard Ilim speak. 'Had you remained behind to help the other Death Knight , you would have inevitably been sandwiched between my forces and crushed'

Liha was battling two of the skeletons. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Ilim preparing another spell. Liha spared a moment to conjure a barrier of anti-magic to surround him. And not a moment too soon. A bolt of shadow struck him, unlike any he had ever seen cast before. Liha had fought mages and warlocks before. But Ilim appeared to be incredibly stronger than any he had faced. Much of the impact of the bolt had been absorbed, but he could feel a formless shadow enveloping him, creeping into the crevices of his armor, and burning the skin underneath.

'Had you arrived a moment later, my spell would have been completed. The runes you see beneath you would have empowered the whole crypt into an army of invincible scourge'

Liha saw that it was true. He considered it fortunate that they had arrived in time to prevent Ilim from completing this 'ritual'. Liha finished both his opponents and leapt towards Ilim. Anticipating a second shadow bolt, Liha dropped to the ground midway on all fours. He felt the back of his neck singed as the bolt grazed him. He looked up to see Ilim already channeling his spell. He had to stop it. before he could make a second move towards Ilim, he heard the clatter of bones to his side. He brought up his sword in time to avoid begin decapitated. He could count close to six skeletons in all and more beginning to rise. Cursing Liha leapt back and launched a spell of shadow towards Ilim. As before Ilim had protected himself against it. But the skeletons stopped rising. This was bad thought Liha, as he was now defending against three skeletons. Inara and William were pinned down as well. Every second he leaves Ilim free, Ilim would channel his spell to heal and summon more skeletons. Will a yell of primal rage, Liha swung his blade distancing his opponents. In a fraction of time, he launched a spell of death and decay on the ground. Glowing red under the influence of his spell, the ground was frothing with carrion and plague swarms that began to infect the skeletons. Grasping arms came out of the plague infected ground to grab and slow down the skeletons. He chose one opponent and launched a blast of ice shattering it into pieces. While it didn't completely destroy the skeletons, it kept them from healing. He leapt towards where Ilim was standing and brought down his sword. From within the folds of his robe, Ilim produced an ordinary staff to catch the blow. In a swift motion, Ilim brought the staff around the sword touching Liha on his chest with it. The effect was tremendous. Liha was launched off the ground and crashed through the skeletons behind him into the wall. Not a very ordinary staff, he thought. Rising to his feet Liha found himself surrounded by more skeletons. Inara was faring no better. William was lying on the ground taking protection from his large shield.

Clearing his head, Liha understood that the skeletons were a mere distraction. They would attack him, but killing Ilim would solve everything. He needed to stop their constant interruptions to focus on Ilim. Liha could summon a single ghoul and control it easily enough. But now he would need to use Ilim's own strategy against him. Spells were never free. Even for a Necromancer of Ilim's stature, the ritual to summon and heal the skeletons would be a drain. Making up his mind, Liha pointed his sword to the ground to summon as many ghouls as he possible could. He felt himself nearly lose consciousness as his mind was split between several ghouls trying to issue commands to them. He felt a sword enter the side of his stomach and was pulled out of his spell. There were six ghouls which were now running amok between the skeletons. They wouldn't last long. They didn't need to. With the last bit of power he had left in him, Liha summoned the greatest weapon of an Unholy Death Knight- The Ebon Gargoyle. He was taught to do so only under extreme duress, and once he summoned it, it would be many days before he could do it again. He had regretted summoning it many times before, as he found himself in greater need of it later. This certainly warranted an emergency and the moment was critical. Mentally uttering the words, he contacted a being half in between the plane of life and death. Seconds later, his call was responded to by a fearsome gargoyle, with bat-like wings and green eyes. In truth, the gargoyle was not as deadly as it seemed at first glance. Its greatest strength was that of distracting an enemy to strike it. Intimidation. Left alone the gargoyle could not stay on the plane of life for more than half a minute. A clever enemy would ignore it rather than attack it. Attacking it only shortened it life-span by a few seconds. That was not to say its effect wasn't devastating. Letting loose magical bolts of a greenish hue from its mouth, the gargoyle started attacking the skeletons. The frenzy was nearly complete. To it, Liha added his previous spell of death and decay.

'What are you doing?' screamed Inara. To her, Liha's abilities would be as alien as the scourge and undead could ever be to a paladin. Liha chose not to answer. He quickly removed the tiny repair bots that he always had ready and threw them to the ground. Liha had prepared them with the ability to explode if he ever wished to use them as a weapon. The explosion would be a shockwave that would stun everything in a small range for a very short while.

'Fool of a Death Knight! Do you think you can even hope to stand against me!'

As calm and composed as he had been. As calculative as Ilim had been, he rose to the bait. Liha knew what would follow. Ilim had seen Liha try and match him with numbers and was beginning to summon more skeletons to prove his might. Through the mad frenzy Liha could see that more bones on the ground were getting animated. Some of his ghouls were already dying. Liha chose an opportune moment and triggered the explosion of his bots. Above the din of the battle, and the clatter of bone and steel, there was a loud deafening noise, as three of the bots that Liha had thrown into the scrimmage exploded. At least half the skeletons and Liha's own ghouls were stunned.

This was the only chance Liha would get. His entire gambit rested upon letting Ilim think he was challenging him on a show of numbers. Ilim rose to that challenge and had summoned a small army. If Liha had predicted correctly, Ilim would be weakened at least momentarily. The loud noise from the explosions had broken Ilim's concentration and he was staring at the madness in front of him.

Liha deftly moved through the rubble of bones avoiding several strikes. He leapt onto the back of one skeleton and flew into the air. Ilim had been quick to react bringing forth his staff. Liha was right. His magical abilities were momentarily down. He had underestimated the staff before, but not this time. Avoiding a strike from the staff, Liha drove his sword into Ilim's heart. Ilim's face was frozen in a look of astonishment. Liha wasted no time. Twisting the blade, he yanked it out leaving Ilim fallen at the ground. The effect was immediate. Liha turned to see that the skeletons were blown to bits by the gargoyles magic. The gargoyle dissolved into nothingness, its time on this plane spent. The ghouls too returned to the ground. Inara's hammer struck the skeletons shattering them into pieces. This had taken far too long. Azrael would be dead. Liha quickly made to move out to go and help Azrael. The scourge would be weakened greatly by Ilim's death.

'Well fought Death Knight. But you will never make it out of this crypt alive'

Liha turned to see that Ilim was leaning on his staff. He turned to attack Ilim but before he could do anything, Ilim lifted his staff and struck it into the ground. The explosion Liha had set off previously through his bots didn't even compare to the sound that followed. Liha felt himself swept off his feet and the ground shook underneath him. Ilim had collapsed onto the ground his life-force spent. The runes that covered the ground now glowed a fierce red. He felt the room shake again. Liha could feel it. The entire crypt would collapse.

'We need to go now' said Inara. She was supporting William and was helping him to his feet. Liha couldn't agree more. He ran towards the exit hoping Azrael would still be alive.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

'As disciples of blood, you strive to master the very life-force of your enemies'

A much younger Azrael stood in rigid attention among a group of new Death Knight Initiates. Lord Thorval, instructor of the Blood school, was training the newly formed Death Knights who had just been risen into undeath by the Lich King himself. They were in Acherus. None of them had been told to which school they were to go to train. As all scourge, they simply knew. Azrael remembered nothing before this. He was the hand of the Lich King. His chosen one. His life began in service to the Lich King and his only purpose in life- to execute the will of the Lich King.

'Be it by blade or incantation, blood feeds our attacks and weakens our foes' continued Lord Thorval. Azrael listened in rapt attention.

'And every foe that falls, energy sapped and stolen, only furthers our assault'

'You' said Lord Thorval pointing to Azrael 'Step forward'

Without hesitation Azrael stepped out of the ranks and stood in front of Thorval. He had with, his him newly forged rune blade. He was eager to serve the Lich King and would rise to any challenge.

'Do you feel the power of Blood within you?' asked Thorval

'Yes' replied Azrael. There was no emotion in his voice. He stated it as simply as one would state a fact.

Two servants- Rotting corpses- brought a chained prisoner and threw him at Thorval's feet. The prisoner was human. No doubt Thorval had chosen one of Azrael's own race to test his conviction. The prisoner tried to speak, but a tight metal collar around his neck restrained his voice. Even in undeath Azrael could recognize emotions. He could see the terror in the prisoner's eyes as he groveled at Thorval's feet. Ignoring the unheard pleas of the prisoner, Thorval spoke.

'Do you feel the Blood within him?' he asked. Pointing his blade to the prisoner.

Azrael nodded.

'Good. Now make it boil' he said.

Azrael moved closer to Thorval and held his hand inches from the squirming chained prisoner. Calling upon the dormant powers the Lich King had blessed him with, he felt a hunger rise within him. He felt his own life-force connecting with the prisoners. In a matter of seconds he could feel the prisoner's blood. He knew what he had to do, even though he had not been taught. Slowly he used his own powers to heat the prisoner's blood. The human was now curled into a ball not understanding what was happening to him. Azrael was met with primal resistance. The human was weak of mind, but like every creature he had a will to survive that was far beyond his own understanding. Unworthy of life, a voice whispered his in his ears. Incensed by the resistance of the human, Azrael spread his fingers and concentrated harder. A long moan escaped from the throat of the prisoner in spite of the collar that stifled him. In a sudden flash, the human form that was lying before him exploded splattering blood on everything around him. A glob of blood had struck Azrael in the face. Boiling as it was, Azrael felt no pain. The blood could not harm him. Without making a move to clean it, Azrael calmly lowered his hand and turned to face Thorval. Thorval nodded in approval. The Blood on the floor was bubbling and steaming through lumps of flesh showing that it was still boiling. Wordlessly, Azrael moved and stood within the ranks of the initiates again. The hot boiling blood flowed down from his face onto his lips. He could almost taste the power that was latent in it.

'As masters of blood, we know battle without end...We know hunger never to be quenched...We know power never to be overcome...'

Azrael knew the words to be true. He was only an initiate, yet he felt the bottomless well of power that he had tapped when he called upon the powers of blood.

'As masters of blood, we are masters of life and death itself'

That power would one day be his.

'Against us, even hope falls drained and lifeless'

-

It was a detached Azrael that now stood in the second level of the Undercroft. There were at least four abominations. About ten skeletons and countless ghouls. All of them sharing a single target. Him. He had fought against the first wave of scourge savagely destroying them into rubble against the power of Ilim's runes that fueled them. Eventually the stronger scourge had come to join the battle. He switched his stance to become completely defensive. His only goal was to live. To live long enough to hold them back. He had even forgotten why. Reasons never mattered. He had returned to the creature that he had first been reborn as. The Champion of the Lich King. Nothing else in the world mattered. There was only him and his connection to the blood and his goal. His goal back then had been the will of the Lich King. Now his goal was to survive. In the midst of all this madness, Azrael had come face to face with the truth of who he was. His connection to the Blood was always there. The power within him cared not whether he fought for the Lich King or against him, whether he killed innocents or whether he killed scourge. It was simply there. The only reason he had been able to channel it with such deadly efficiency under the Lich King was that his mind had been devoid of emotions and reasons. As much as his own mind tried to associate his connection with the power to the atrocities he had committed, he now understood they were utterly disconnected. With that realization he opened himself up entirely to the Blood power that was raging within him. Visions flooded him of the countless beings he had slaughtered, villages and towns like Havenshire that he had laid waste to. They did not affect him.

With singular focus, he stood at the center of room. An angel of death. He moved like a candle flame that danced against the wind. Cleaver, sword, axe, meat hook, claw. They could not touch him. If they did, they struck hard, but he did not feel the pain. He struck with his sword at every opening he could find. He held his blade back parrying tremendous strikes. More were coming to join the battle. Let them come he thought. He could see a massive claw swipe the side of his face ripping out a chunk of flesh. Again he felt no pain. His response was to hack off the claw that had come so close. He leapt sideways avoiding a cleaver. One part of him screamed that he was getting injured beyond repair. But he had to continue, he would continue. He had to survive. With each breath he drew, he commanded the powers of Blood within him to survive. His life had been reduced to seconds. Every second he lived counted.

The number of wounds he was taking began to increase. Several of the wounds were closing up to heal, but a few continued to bleed profusely. It didn't matter. These pathetic excuses for undeath would not pass. Not while he could still breathe. He carved giant swipes into walls of rotting flesh and bone. He ploughed through all the matter that surrounded him. That was all everything was. Matter. Blood corrupted and rotting was blood still. Blood within the marrow of the bone was blood still. And it was all he saw. Blood. And it was all he felt. His connection to it.

Time passed. He was getting weaker. He felt his mind drawn back into the body. The pain began to overcome him. He felt a sword strike his leg cutting through the armor and slashing his foot. He felt the sting of the blade. He stole back whatever life he could from the Blood that was around him, but it wasn't going to be enough. A cleaver slashed across his front, tearing through armor, flesh and bone. Ignoring the damage, he rolled over towards an opening and struck back at the deformed hand that held the cleaver disconnecting it from its body. He felt his blood and bile rise into his mouth from his stomach. He leapt back towards the wall blood gushing from several of his wounds.

Suddenly he heard voices.

'I can see someone inside!'

He held his sword aloft to block another strike, but his strength was nearly drained. The block was weak and his weapon was knocked away from his hand. More voices.

'Andu-falah-dor!' Azrael recognized it as elven

'What the hell is wrong with them!'

'They're just not dying'

'Yeah! I can see someone there. A human. He's badly wounded'

Through the haze and battle-weariness Azrael could make out dim lit figures. He was sure he could see one or two death knights. Most of them were paladins though. By some miracle, reinforcements had arrived. Azrael found his blade on the ground. Before he could stand up, he heard a loud rumble and felt the ground shake underneath his feet. He was knocked back to the ground. The rumbles began to grow louder. Suddenly he felt something change around him. The runes on the scourge began to glow and then go away altogether. It came back to him. Liha had done it. Taking heart Azrael tried to join the newcomers in their battle against the scourge. It was unnecessary. It was over before the battle had begun.

'What happened?'

'I'm not sure. They just died'

'One minute they fight like Scourgelords and suddenly...'

Azrael felt hands upon him. Warm hands. Not the cold touch of the scourge

'Easy there friend...'

It was a human paladin. Taking his support Azrael tried to speak. All that came out was a gurgle. He tried to turn backwards.

'I need help here!' A female voice

Azrael turned his neck around. It was Inara. She was supporting a wounded William on her shoulder. Following them was Liha. Liha immediately ran to where Azrael was standing and offered his support. Many words were exchanged after that. There were more rumbles. The Crypt was going to cave in. They were on the stairs to the upper level when Azrael remembered her.

Azrael broke off from the man holding him and started back down into the second level.

'What the..?'

'Are you insane? Get back here!'

Ignoring the voices. Azrael turned back and shouted. 'GO! I'll be fine. Right behind you'

A slab from the ceiling broke off and fell to the ground. Azrael sidestepped to avoid getting crushed. He felt a strong hand grip his arm to try and pull him. He knew it was Liha. He shouted over the noise of the stone foundations collapsing.

'We need to go! NOW!'

Ignoring him Azrael ran towards the stairs to third level where he had left Lyresa. As he came closer to the stairs he heard a scream. He saw that she was already awake and was at the edge of the stairs. He could see tears streaming down her eyes and horror in her face even from a distance. Azrael leapt into her, pushing her away from a collapsing wall.

'You're mad! you came back for HER?' shouted Liha, helping Azrael to the ground.

'I'll explain everything later' Azrael managed to say. He could feel his legs trembling as he got back to his feet. He could feel Lyresa clutching on to his hand. Liha shot a hateful stare at Lyresa but it appeared he was prepared to trust Azrael. Azrael's legs were nearly gave away as they reached the stairs to the first level. Lyresa tripped and fell down. There was no time to waste thought Azrael. It would be faster if he carried her. Without a word he swept her off her feet and rushed forward in mad burst of energy. He reminded himself that this ordeal was at an end. Starting with the abomination that the had fought in the morning, Durk'anh, and then the Enhanced scourge. All of it was at an end. He only had to make it a few meters more.

'Move faster!' shouted Liha. Azrael saw that Liha was far ahead of him. A large pillar collapsed blocking his path. Azrael leapt over it and collapsed to the ground. Lyresa fell a few feet away from him. His energy was leaving him. His wounds were too grievous. He felt a light touch on his hand. It was Lyresa. She still appeared to be crying. She tried to lift him to his feet. He couldn't help but force a smile. Maybe his decision wasn't a bad one after all. She was roughly pushed aside by Liha who managed to pull Azrael to his feet. Together the three of them managed to make it to the stairs leading to the exit.

Azrael pushed himself forward, being pulled by Liha. It was dawn the next day. Never in all his life did Azrael feel so glad to see the sun. The light fell upon his body relaxing him. He heard much chatter and noises. Behind him he could hear the final rumble that collapsed the antechamber into the ground. All at once he felt the remnants of energy draining from his body. His Blood power that had sustained him throughout had receded back to the depths from which he called it. He was simply too tired to feel any pain. Closing his eyes, he collapsed onto the ground. The last feeling he felt was relief. Relief that they were all alive. Relief that at long last since he had joined the Knights of the Ebon Blade- he had finally found himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Liha felt himself wrestled to the ground. He made no move to resist. Suddenly the three soldiers holding him down were swept off their feet with a blast of golden light.

'Do not touch him!'

Inara had her hand held in front of her bristling with the energy of the light she had just summoned. Her other hand held the hammer aloft ready to strike.

Liha wasn't very surprised at how quickly this group had fallen back to their racial differences. It did not matter that they had just prevented one of the greatest catastrophes that could have befallen the Plaguelands. It did not matter that it was scarcely a few minutes that all of them had just escaped being crushed by a crypt that was caving in. All that mattered was that he was a Troll- A member of the savage Horde. Liha did not judge. For if it was the Horde that had come to their aid; Azrael, Inara and William would be the ones being held down.

'You forget your rank Corporal Inara' said a calm voice. It was the Zodel, leader of the small group of Paladins that had arrived in the nick of time to save Azrael. Liha had yet to know how they had gotten here. He could count five paladins- three human and two dwarf. And half a dozen soldiers whom he recognized as the Stormwind Elite- all human, the equivalent of the Horde's Kor'kron- War chief Thrall's personal guard. He counted only two Death Knights. One a human and the other a Night elf. He did not recognize the human. The Night Elf was Draithas- a Blood Knight like Azrael. Although Liha never knew him personally he had known of him, as he was sure Draithas had known of him. They had exchanged a brief smile before Liha had been knocked to the ground by the Stormwind guard.

'And you forget your honor Commander Zodel'

Liha had not seen Inara as angry as she was now, even in the dungeon inside the crypt where they were held. Liha saw that Azrael was lying on the floor. Lyresa seemed to be oblivious to everything around her except Azrael, kneeling by his side and gazing into him.

'You will be tried and found guilty of treason if you do not stand back and let them take the Troll'

She stood squarely between Liha and the Stormwind guard who appeared to prepare themselves for another assault on him.

'No. This 'Troll' has a name. He is called Liha. And he is the reason ANY of us standing here are still alive. I will not stand back and let these...bigots take him'

'As will I' said a weak voice. William was wounded but he stood up and joined Inara between the Soldiers and Liha

Zodel merely stood watching the spectacle.

'I am afraid I have to agree with the girl Zodel' Draithas had spoken 'I do understand that we fight a war on many fronts. I understand that we have many differences with the Horde. But sometimes, we need to put aside these differences'

Draithas made a move to join Inara. The other human Death Knight had a helm covering his face but he too walked along with Draithas in a show of support for Liha. Liha knew that most Death Knights had a bond that ran deeper than that of race.

'To hell with you' said Zodel holding his forehead with his palm.

'Stand down. The Troll goes free' he said. The Stormwind elite were not answerable to any but King Varian himself, but Zodel held the rank of a Commander among the Alliance. Liha didn't know the exact hierarchy among the Alliance but he knew it to be just a few ranks below Warlord. As much as they would want to cart him off to a speedy execution, they had no choice but to obey. Besides, what chance did they have against three Death Knights and six paladins.

'Take the girl' he continued pointing to Lyresa. She seemed to not hear.

'No!' said Liha. This time even Inara looked at him incredulously.

'What? now you want us to set the little cultist free as well?' said Zodel. He brought his hammer off his back holding it aloft.

Liha wasn't sure how he would plead for Lyresa's life. Even he did not know why Azrael had chosen to save the arrogant girl. Yet he felt, Azrael wouldn't risk his life without a good reason.

'Azrael found her worth saving' he said. He knew it was a weak argument, yet he continued speaking. He noticed that Draithas was looking at him with his eyebrow raised. 'The least we can do is wait till he gets up'

'Out of question' said Zodel 'Consider yourself lucky I'm letting you go free Troll. Do not push my generosity. I know a cultist when I see one. They stink worse than undead'

The human death knight shifted in his armor. The fool might be a Commander, but he better watch his words carefully lest he gets himself killed. Draithas still remained calm, but his expression was now stone-faced. Trying to make up a lie, Liha spoke.

'She gave us valuable information...'

Zodel laughed before Liha could complete his sentence.

'A likely story. Enough fooling around. Take her'

The guards seized her quickly and began to chain her. Liha looked at Inara for support. Inara was biting her lip. She then shook her head

'She has to answer for Master Tiaeus and Tom. The light knows how many more'

Liha's head slumped. The only one whose words they would listen to would be Azrael. Who was now lying on the ground unconscious. Liha could feel the toll of the battle on himself. He could only imagine how much of a strain it had been for Azrael.

'They won't kill her' said Inara trying to comfort Liha. 'She will be given a fair trial in Stormwind. When Azrael gets better he can speak in her defense' Inara seemed doubtful of the latter.

The human Death Knight spoke.

'He doesn't look like he'll be getting up soon'

One of the soldiers was bandaging Azrael's wounds. His armor removed, Liha could finally see the extent of his wounds. Azrael's own Blood powers were utterly drained. Inara had been on the point of healing some of his wounds when the Stormwind soldiers jumped him. Her spells seemed to have little or no effect on Azrael at this point. Draithas had assured her that they had the necessary means to heal him back at Acherus hold, after which he had gone to speak to Commander Zodel. Lyresa was dragged away by the Soldiers. She would most likely be taken to light's hope. Or if they were in a hurry, directly to Southshore- the most accessible Alliance town in this region.

'How did you ever find us?' asked Inara addressing the Masked human Death Knight.

'Oh...it was a very curious thing. Me and master Draithas were scouting a scarlet base camp by the lake when we run into this very shady character. Hack he called himself...'

Liha let out a laugh as Inara's jaw dropped.

'So he tells us about this Scourge filled crypt. We don't know whether to believe him, but master Draithas figured it would be better to take a look just to be on the safe side. Hack then says he's going to Lights hope. And it was good thing too. By the time me and master Draithas reached here, we saw that we needed help. We couldn't even count how many scourge there were. A lot tougher than your normal fare at that' he looked towards Zodel now.

'Commander Zodel arrived with reinforcements just in time for us to attack'

He removed his helm now. He showed bright silver hair short cropped.

'What the hell happened down there?' he asked.

'Perhaps another time' said Inara. The human seemed a little hurt at being cut off by Inara. She seemed to have noticed for she quickly added 'Maybe after I get some rest. I will be remaining at Light's hope for sometime as I am sure will you' The human brightened at the prospect of conversation with her.

'I'll be looking forward to it' he said moving to join Draithas. He gave a casual bow of the head to Liha.

'So where will you be going now?' asked Inara. Liha looked towards Azrael. The soldiers were nearly finished bandaging him up. 'First I need to get Azrael looked at in Acherus. And after that...well...I would be heading to the south. I have some...work that needs attending to'

'Immediately?' she asked.

'I am afraid so' She appeared to be slightly disappointed at this.

'Our paths will surely cross again' he said trying to make her feel better.

'I surely hope so' She pointed to Commander Zodel 'I need to go join Commander Zodel now. I have no doubt I would need to fill in a few reports and give the details of what happened'

Liha nodded. Inara quickly embraced Liha in a hug and reached up to plan a kiss on his cheek.

'Take care, my friend' she said before leaving.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Azrael woke up with a start. He found himself bandaged all over and leaning against a tree. The first thing he saw was the floating citadel Acherus. It was not too far away. He then lowered his eyes to see a campfire in front of him. Sitting by it were faces that he recognized. Dreyfus, one of the younger Death Knights. Sitting next to him were Draithas and Liha. They just noticed that Azrael had woken up. Liha was grinning with his usual customary grin. A Troll's grinning would take time getting used to, but Azrael was quite used to it by now.

'How are you doing my friend?' asked Liha

'Master Azrael' started Dreyfus .He had a habit of referring to nearly everyone at Acherus as 'Master'. Then again being one of the youngest of the knights, he had still been an initiate in training when the Death Knights, under Mograine had retaken the citadel as their headquarters. He had been left behind to be tutored further in the ways of the Death Knights before joining the forces at Northrend. An exceptionally fast learner, he had learned from nearly everyone left behind at Acherus. Including Azrael.

'Dreyfus. Nice to see you again' said Azrael stretching his arms. He felt the pain but he was glad to feel it. In spite of being severely wounded Azrael was feeling much better than he had in months. It was after a long time that he enjoyed a dreamless sleep. He hardly ever slept under the Lich King. And after he joined the Ebon Blade, his nights were spent reliving the torments of the Havenshire citizenry. Dreyfus handed him a bowl of broth that they had cooking over the fire. It was early in the morning. Azrael guessed it had been a few hours since their escape from the undercroft. He thanked Dreyfus after accepting the food.

'Liha was telling us about the battle in the Undercroft' He said kneeling next to Azrael. He seemed to be looking at Azrael with an expression of awe.

'Embellished no doubt' added Azrael.

'Even if half of what he describes is true...' said Draithas shaking his head as if showing disbelief.

'You did well my brother' he added

Draithas was one of the Death Knights who had chosen to remain behind. Having led a very non-violent life before being risen as a Death Knight, he had no desire to return to war immediately, even if it was against the Lich King. He preferred to serve in other ways. Such as a mentor to the younger Death Knights. Azrael knew his missions were slightly more political in nature. Representing the Death Knights at several gahterings as required. Among all the races of Azeroth, few were as trustworthy as a Night Elf. Even among the Horde, the night elves were tolerated, albeit only by the most open minded.

'Besides. I saw you fighting there' said Dreyfus. His voice betrayed his excitement

'When we made our way to the lower level, I saw you fighting a whole army of scourge! This is one for the books!' he said. Azrael tried to smile and was reminded of the mangled cheek. Dreyfus was as thrilled by the events taking place as only a child could be. Azrael wasn't certain of his age but would have put it less than twenty. Thinking of Dreyfus' age reminded him.

'Where's Lyresa?' he asked looking around. The three Death Knights exchanged looks. Liha then explained what had happened.

Azrael felt as if a knife was driven into his heart. No. He did not save her so that she could be executed in a public exhibition. He dropped his head into his palms and wiped his face. He made to get up and felt every muscle protest. He nearly fell back down to the ground before Dreyfus caught him.

'You're in no condition to go anywhere' said Draithas.

'I have to. Where's my blade?' he asked.

'And what exactly are you going to do?' asked Draithas. Azrael had no answer for him.

'She is a cultist. The scourge at least have an excuse to serve the Lich King. Cultists are worse than the worst of Azeroth'

'We served the Lich King as well' Azrael replied calmly.

'We had no choice' came an equally calm reply

'And maybe neither did she' said Azrael. He continued 'She's looks less than twenty. A bit younger than Dreyfus here'

'It's possible she fell in with the wrong crowd' said Dreyfus.

'That does not excuse the crimes that she committed' said Draithas.

'We committed crimes under Him as well. And we repay our debt by fighting against him. What possible purpose could it serve letting the young girl die?' Azrael asked.

'And what makes you so sure she has mended her ways? That she won't run off to join another group of cultists again? You know what we fight against. We do not have the luxury of such risks'

Azrael did not need to answer that because every Death Knight could answer it for himself. Unsaid, into everyone's mind present there, came the image of High lord Tirion Fordring.

Draithas appeared to be embarrassed by what he suggested.

'She was the one who told me of the link between Ilim and the runes branded on the scourge. If it wasn't for her, none of us would have lived'

'People will say anything to save their own lives...'

Azrael remained determined. Draithas continued

'Even so. If she does deserve a chance at redemption, what do you propose to do?'

Azrael had no answer.

'Are you going to slaughter the Guards that are escorting her to Stormwind? You would spill innocent blood to save the girl?'

Again Azrael had no answer.

'He's right' came a voice from around them. Azrael turned to see that a cloaked figure had appeared to join them. His footsteps made no sound. Draithas appeared to show disgust. No doubt at four death knights having been caught off guard by one man. The newcomer threw back his hood.

'Hack!' blurted Dreyfus. Dreyfus seemed genuinely glad to see him. Azrael hadn't the faintest idea as to who this person was. Draithas appeared to know him and to Azrael's confusion, Liha as well. Liha stood up and extended his hand to 'Hack'.

'I feel I owe you my thanks as well as an apology. We thought you had abandoned us' said Liha

'The fault is mine. I believe I should have at least let you know what I was up to instead of just up and disappearing'

'Us as well' said Draithas. 'For even we doubted the truth of your story'

Azrael gathered the rogue was responsible for the reinforcements that they had received. Hack was still standing and turned to Azrael.

'The girl is being taken to Southshore where the guards will put up for the night. She will be held in the Mayors office. In a small makeshift prison. If you want to get her out, you need to do it now. If she gets to Stormwind, there is absolutely no saving her'

'Do you know how many of Stormwind's finest died for the fall of Naxxramas?' Hack continued. 'How many wives widowed and sons left fatherless? Now we know the war effort in Northrend is going well, but we have nothing to show for it. All the people ever hear are stories. We can't very well bring in the scourge for execution. And the cultists are all in Northrend. They're just as hard to get hold of as the scourge itself. They'd sooner die than be taken prisoner. Why'd you think Zodel was so keen on getting her? They're going to milk this for all its worth. I know for a fact they're going to play her up as the mastermind behind the whole thing. Even charge her with the deaths of many of the soldiers just to appease the masses. If things go their way, they're going to torture her as well for a good long time before they kill her. Even Varian's own word will not keep the people of Stormwind from getting their justice'

Azrael's stomach turned. In spite of all the violence he had witnessed and all the acts he had committed for the Lich King, torture was something he never condoned- Even in undeath. There were little information worth torturing another creature for. And even when it was necessary Azrael could never bring himself to do it. This was far worse. Just for the sake of a public spectacle. To appease a bloodthirsty crowd

'That does it. I'm going there to get her even if I have to kill the soldiers guarding her!' said Azrael.

'Don't be a fool' continued Hack 'I have no doubt you'll be able to kill them. What after that? You think an escaped cultist is going to get far? Where are you going to take her? In a matter of moments, every Inn in the eastern kingdoms will have her picture and a price on her head that every no-name adventurer will want'

Again Azrael had no answer. He did not have the time to keep protecting Lyresa from the law.

Draithas spoke now

'Azrael. You have to understand the precarious position the Death Knights are in. We were inducted back into the Alliance...and the horde, only on the strength of High lord Tirion Fordring's word. The Death Knights accomplish much in Northrend and the Argent Dawn as well as the leaders of the offensive in Northrend know of our value. In the eastern kingdoms...' Draithas shook his head. 'The general public knows little of us except that we now serve their leaders. We are still viewed by many as untrustworthy. We cannot afford an incident like this. A Death Knight breaking out a cultist. News travels fast and by the time it reaches Stormwind or Ironforge, it will be a whole battalion of Death Knights that slaughtered an army to free their cultist master. Believe me. I know how rumors work Azrael…'

'The elf has a point' said Hack. 'Now I understand you want to save her. And I feel I owe you bunch for getting me out of that jam we were in. If we make it to Southshore tonight, I'll be able to break her out. Even fake her death so that they might not look for her. But she'll never be safe here. Even an accident will seem too convenient for their liking'

'I believe you can let me take care of that' said Liha. Azrael was surprised.

'I'm heading to Stranglethorn Vale. To booty bay'

'I'm afraid Stormwind's arm stretches even there' replied Hack. 'And I'm sure you can't be spending your time babysitting that lass. Won't you have...other things to do?' said Hack.

Azrael was beginning to wonder who Hack really was. Looking at him more intently he saw well polished leather armor beneath the cloak, and several implements. The hilt of his dagger was partially visible as cloak parted to a side. It was too ornate to be in the hands of a common thief. And sneaking up on four Death Knights was no easy task, even for the most exceptional rogues.

'I don't think that will be a problem. I know...people in Booty Bay' said Liha after thinking for a while.

Hack seemed to be doubtful of this. He moved his hand to his chin and rubbed the stubble.

'Hmmm. Very well then' he said. He moved and sat down by the camp fire and rubbed his hands 'That's a fine stew you have going. I think I can grab a bite before we get going' .


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Draithas and Dreyfus had thrown away the makeshift stretcher that they were using to carry Azrael. He was capable of walking by himself, although at a slightly slower place. Hack had told them that they could cover the distance to Southshore in four hours. He assured them that the Guards would spend the night at Southshore and would start again only in the early hours of the next day. They would not be able to act until darkness fell, which he said, left him enough time for a nap. Azrael was impressed by the rogue's confidence. He walked away to the side away from earshot of the rest, gesturing to Liha.

'I'm coming with you' said Azrael. It was decided that Hack and Liha would go to Southshore. Azrael did not feel right burdening Liha with something that he felt was his responsibility.

Liha immediately shook his head. Azrael knew the answer before Liha spoke

'You need time to rest and heal. You're barely able to walk. If I can be completely honest, you'll only be slowing us down. She will be safe with me. I am sure I can find a place for her where she will be safe. There are a lot of people in the Vale that owe me...favors'

'The more I get to know you, the more I feel there is to know'

'Maybe another time, we can sit and share stories' he replied. After some hesitation he added

'Why did you save her?'

Azrael was afraid that sooner or later someone would ask him that. He explained about encountering her while escaping from Durk'anh's lab.

'I don't know. Something told me it was just a bad choice that she made. Joining the cultists. Most of all, I guess it was the fear in her eyes. She was just a child caught in the middle of something...'

Liha still looked doubtful. But Azrael knew Liha wouldn't judge him

'I'm sorry for putting this on you...'

'No apologies needed my friend. Your troubles are mine' Said Liha placing his hand on Azrael's shoulder.

Draithas and Dreyfus were nearly done.

'I will let you know as soon as she is safe' said Liha.

This was where they would part ways. Azrael would need to report back at Acherus and Light's hope chapel. It was agreed that Liha and Hack would turn back and head to Southshore once the rogue was done with his nap. His muscles still ached as he strode over to the two death knights. The rush of battle worn off, and his powers dormant, Azrael was only an ordinary human being. Until he healed at least. Which would take a few days he estimated. Azrael turned one last time to wave to his friend as he parted. Dreyfus was already carrying his armor and blade. Together the three of them set off towards Acherus.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The Hillsbrad foothills where the alliance town of Southshore was located was of historical significance to the Horde. For it was the location of Durnholde Keep, which played an instrumental role in the making of Thrall, now War chief of the Horde. Other than that and the fact that Tarren Mill, where the undead Forsaken of Sylvanas Windrunner operated, Liha knew nothing of the place he was in. Darkness had already fallen and Hack had left him a short distance away from the town. Liha had nothing to fear from the wildlife. Bears and Mountain Lions did not scare him. Yet the idea of being so deep into Alliance territory unsettled him. The forsaken of Sylvanas, though in theory members of the Horde, unsettled him as much as the Alliance itself. The sooner Hack would get here, the sooner Liha would be rid of this place.

Liha was crouched amidst a foliage of bushes in a small patch densely populated with trees. He had his weapon at hand in case something went wrong. The most worrisome of his situation was Lyresa. What was he going to do with the girl once Hack got her here. He was sure Hack would succeed. As a Death Knight and much before, Liha had observed many fighters. He knew how versatile rogues were. Most people reacted with disdain upon the mention of a rogue, much like Inara had when Liha had first asked about Hack who was fast asleep in the dungeon. Yet he knew that they were formidable opponents who could kill an enemy with a single well placed strike. Liha had observed the way Hack moved. Despite Hack's attempts to show himself as a common rogue, Liha knew he was much more. He knew Hack was well capable of the task he set out to do. Any moment he would arrive here with Lyresa and Liha would have to make a run for it. Hack had been correct in predicting that riders would go out in every direction with descriptions of the dangerous escaped cultist. He would need to be very careful. In all his respect for Azrael, Liha had seen that humans for most part were creatures of passion. Liha believed only a part of Azrael's story about why he had chosen to save Lyresa. If there was anything more, Liha would not judge Azrael but would honor his wishes. As for the girl, he was sure she could be accommodated in Booty Bay. In spite of all appearances the Blackwater raiders, and the Steamwheedle cartel held it in an iron grip. The Booty Bay goblin Bruisers tolerated no violence in the port city unless sanctioned by Baron Revilgaz. That was not to say the town wasn't violent. Bar brawls were commonplace. As were routine fights over the gambling tables. An assassination though would be taken very seriously indeed by the Baron. Neither the Horde nor the Alliance had a say in the events there. If things were as Liha had left them, he could arrange for the human girl to be safe. He hoped.

He strained his vision to look at the small lights that moved in the distance. He suddenly saw a much brighter light that eclipsed the ones around it. A fire. Hack was going to some lengths to ensure Lyresa's safety. The girl should be counting herself fortunate to have so many caring for her in spite of all that she did. Liha realised he would need to put aside his differences with the girl. The fire grew brighter. Liha would have risked going closer to take a look but it was of no consequence. He was sure that the citizens would be rushing to put out the fire.

He watched silently for many minutes until he heard footsteps to his left. It was Hack. Trailing behind him was Lyresa. She still had the same robes that she was wearing in the Undercroft. The hood was covering her face. Liha stood up to greet Hack. Before Liha could say anything, Hack spoke.

'You should be going now. They will find a body in the burnt prison. To be on the safer side, they'll organize a manhunt. The guards were the same ones who held you down after coming out from the undercroft'

He was certainly well informed thought Liha. And talented. To have spied on a gathering of Paladins and Death Knights without getting noticed.

'It was a bad idea speaking up for her. They're bound to doubt that your hand was in this. They know you wanted to save her. The accident will be too much of a coincidence. I'll be able to mislead them into looking in the wrong direction for some time'

Liha raised his eyebrow. Hack was going well out of his way to keep the girl safe and help Liha.

'A few rumors here and there. A word of a sighting in a place away from here. It'll do'

Liha kept staring at Him. Hack pulled Lyresa by the hand and put her beside Liha.

'You're probably wondering why I'm doing this. And you're right. It isn't entirely selfless'

Liha guessed as much. He waited for the catch. Hack burst out laughing as he seemed to have read Liha's mind.

'You needn't worry. I have nothing to ask of you right now. But I have a goal not too different from yours in Booty Bay'

'Who and what are you?' asked Liha

'You only need to know I am commonly known as Hack. As for what, you needn't be worried. I'm not some demon in disguise. You wouldn't know the organization I serve. But its a covert organization of rogues. That much I can tell you'

'What do you need of me?'

'Nothing as of now. Keep the girl safe and keep yourself safe as well. Some day I'll be coming and asking you for a favor. I have done more than pay off my debt for setting me free in the Undercroft. Although I might have eventually managed it myself. You can never tell. I only ask that you remember this service that I have done for you'

Liha had nothing to say to this. He spent half a lifetime being in debt to someone or the other. Booty Bay was a place where favors owed were taken very seriously by the goblins. He hated being in debt to anyone. He only hoped Hack wouldn't ask too much of him.

'Don't waste your time worrying about it. The day won't come soon'

Liha turned to see that there was a small commotion outside the town. Several torches were lit. The fire was still raging.

'You should get going now. My work is far from complete' said Hack.

Liha watched as Hack receded back into the trees and disappeared entirely.

He turned to look at Lyresa. She was staring at him intently. As if wanting to say something. Liha spared her the trouble by summoning his mount. An Acherus Deathcharger. The undead horses that the Death Knights used as mounts. It materialized in the opening from the bushes. The horses existed in the realm of shadows, tended to by the Dark Riders of Acherus. It reared its legs and stood obediently awaiting commands.

'Come on. We have a very long way to go'

He first helped Lyresa get onto the horse and then climbed it himself. Lyresa remained silent throughout. He took one last look at the burning house in Southshore. The fire was dying out now. He turned and started towards the very long road that would take them to Stranglethorn Vale. To Booty Bay.


End file.
